Slytherin Harry Potter: Year One
by erhea
Summary: A very Slytherin Harry Potter, bearing the memories of a young Tom Marvolo Riddle, reenters the Wizarding World for his first year at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Featuring a dark and evil Harry Potter. On hold at the moment, not abandoned. I will continue with it in the next couple of months. Stay tuned for more!
1. Privet Drive

Disclaimer: Not mine... J. is the lord and master, I am just a wishful dreamer...

1. Privet Drive

Mr and Mrs Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were normal, thank you very much.

They had a small house in Surrey and, more important, an impecable reputation in the neighbourhood.

Vernon Dursley, a sturdy Englishman of 30 had a well paid job at Grunnings which made drills, a younger wife and a son, a very normal one, if I may say so. They were his pride and joy. It did not matter that he was more on the chubby side -that was a sign of wealth in his honest opinion- nor that he had the compassion of a monkey, after all, compassion was for fools and beggars.

It was a sunny September morning that day, when stepping outside his freshly molded lawn, he found a small wooden basket on his porch. On it, a letter of curious design, with curled letters written in what he supposed to be emerald ink. He did not mind that the note, made of an old yellowish parchment, was addressed to him. No, what frightened him more was the fact that the blue blanket on which the said missive dutifully sat, actually moved!

Vernon Dursley was not a very bright man, but at that moment he knew that his life would never be the same again. He remembered seeing fireworks in the sky the previous evening, and strange dressed men and women celebrating in the streets. He remembered hearing the name Potter whispered amongst them and that of a You Know Who or, was it What? And was it not a Potter the husband of his never mentioned sister in law? No, after all Potter was not an unusual name - he thought, stroking his pretty large mustache. After all, there was no point in worry or at least that was his conclusion.

With these thoughts on his mind, he picked up the letter and received the worse news ever. His wife's sister and her good for nothing husband were dead - blown up by a freak that went bad, according to a Dumblesomething man, and he had to accommodate his nephew for the unforeseeable future. The letter spoke of love, caring and protection, of family and support, of education and pity...

Looking around, to see if any of his neighbors were outside, he picked up the tiny basket with the pain in the ass and he went back inside. No need to worry about any of that now, his wife will know what to do in this specific situation.

Petunia Dursley was not a kind lady. Encompassed in her small world, between cooking the meals and taking care of her Dudikins, she was a small minded woman who hated anything that was beyond her level of comprehension. She did not like words like change, different, special and she definetly did not want to do anything to damage her perfect little suburban heaven.

But, that specific morning, she received the most disturbing news ever. Seeing her husband returning, not 5 minutes after leaving the house for work, mind you, she knew that something was wrong, very wrong. And so, with little regret she found out about the death of her sister and her brother in law. Not shocking, really, in her opinion, they had it coming. What was awfull was the fact that according to that Dumbledore man she had to raise and take care of her nephew, the Boy Who Did Not Have The Common Sense To Die.

"Pet, m'dear, could we pack up the little freak and send him to an orphanage?" Vernon Dursley grunted, while shooting glares to said package.

"Now, love, you know that we cannot simply do that. He will be watched you know, by that man." his wife replied, while watching her young nephew sleeping soundly.

"But the freakishness my pet... We have to protect our Dudley from it!"

"Yes, and we will. The Boy will earn his keep as soon as he will be able to do so." the women said, a final note in her tone.

And thus, after many discussions and decisions, they took in their middle the Boy,thinking that, after all, you can never have enough help around, and maybe, just maybe, with the right behavior and a little bit of luck, they could make a normal, honest man out of the brat.


	2. The Letters

Disclaimer:

Not mine, J. is the lord and master. I am just a dreamer... :)

2. The letters

Harry Potter woke at 5 am., sweating and trembling because of the same nightmare he has been having for the last 6 years.

Harry Potter was not a normal boy and he knew that very well.

It was not because he was a slave in his relatives home, nor because he was too thin and scrawny for his age. No, Harry Potter was a wizard, a powerful one, and he was well aware of that fact.

He had learned from a very young age that he was not a freak, as his uncle constantly called him, that things didn't "just" happen when he was angry or scared. He knew that he was different and special the first time he turned his teacher's hair blue, in kinder-garden. With that realization came the dreams and soon after, followed the nightmares.

His first dreams were of a small boy living in an orphanage. He was not one of the fortunates to be picked up for adoption because he was too strange, too tiny, too scrawny. He saw himself in that abandoned boy -lost, uncertain and unloved. He recalled not having any friends and closing himself up, being regularly beaten and insulted, finding consolation only in talking to animals, mostly dangerous snakes in the garden.

Harry knew how it felt to be treated as dirt but fortunately his relatives were not violent by nature. Of course there were the casual spankings when he burned the breakfast or when he did not finish his chores on time, but that boy, from his dreams, that boy that looked so much like him lived through hell and more.

Some nights, he dreamt of an old man, turning a closet into fire and then he felt hope. Oh lord, how it soared into his heart and soul. He felt the awe and respect, he felt his wish to belong to someone or something. Along came the despair and disappointment and he cried when he realized that it was all a facade that vanished as soon as an old tattered hat uttered a word that sounded like Slytherin.

Other nights, he saw a magnificent old castle, with moving staircases and talking paintings, packed with children wearing strange robes. He heard various words whispered with worship and fear, words that sounded like spells, incantations, curses. He found out what prejudice can do from a human being and how it managed to mold that young boy into a powerful young man.

And then, then came the nightmares, with people wearing masks, bowing with reverence, seduced by power. He saw the dark skull and green serpent marring the sky, leaving behind death and pain, and with it he understood the words revenge and justice. He even understood the man's desire to kill all those who opposed him, the Potters and their infant child. It was nothing more than a natural urge, the strong killing the weak and any other threat in order to survive or to gain more power.

Yes, with dreams and nightmares came knowledge, and with that knowledge came the understanding. And Harry understood that there was no good or evil, but only power, and those too weak to use it.

As it was, at ten years, almost eleven, Harry knew more spells, curses and jinxes than any other wizard alive, other than Voldemort and Dumbledore. He just had to find the opportunity to use them.

That morning, Harry woke with a start. There were two days left until his birthday and if his calculations were right, then, today was the day he would receive his Hogwarts letter.

Thus, Harry opened the door of the cupboard under the stairs, the dump called his room, and went to check the mail. His expectations were not mislead because between Marge's card and the electricity bill, he found the old parchment made letter bearing Hogwarts seal.

Opening the letter, he noted that the writing was the same he remembered from Tom's letter, the only change being the name. This letter was not addressed to Tom Riddle, but to Harry Potter, The Cupboard under the Stairs, no 4 Privet Drive, Surrey.

'So that old fool knows where I live and in what conditions' he thought, before he continued to open and read the well known words:

"Dear Mr Potter,

We are happy to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts, School of Magic and Witchcraft.

The semester begins on September 1. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

If you have troubles with the acquisition of these items, please reply to this letter and we will assign a teacher to help you with the introduction into our world. Just use the owl stationed on the fence in front of your home.

Furthermore, please remember that first years cannot bring their own brooms onto school grounds.

You are allowed to bring as a pet an owl, a frog, a cat or a rat, or any other bounded familiar.

Looking forward to hearing from you,

Deputy HeadMistress Minerva McGonagall,

Griffindor House, Hogwarts"

Harry knew that even though it would be easier for him to go to the alley by himself, he could not justify his knowledge. He had to thread very carefully, not to raise any suspicion amongst those loyal to the Headmaster. If his assessments were correct, then, he was supposed to be the Golden Boy, the savior, the weapon of light, and he will have to stay low, in order to lead a semblance of a normal life for the next seven years. He saw what happened with little Tom Riddle but he had more knowledge and he was wiser. This time, he will succeed were Voldemort did not, and he will slowly gain more power than any other wizard known in time.

With these thoughts in mind, Harry took the small piece of paper he had left in his notebook (Dudley did not manage to rip it in pieces the last time he raided his cupboard) and wrote a message to the Deputy Headmistress.

"Dear Madam,

As you probably know, I need confirmation that this is not a silly joke.

If you are indeed who you say you are, if magic is indeed true, and if this Hogwarts school does exist, then please send a more detailed description or at least somebody that can help me get these items from the list for I do not know any place that sells these products.

Respectfully yours,

Harry James Potter"

Stepping outside, he found the above mentioned white owl and gave it the letter to take it to Hogwarts. Afterwards, he entered the house and went to prepare the breakfast for the Dursley's, leaving the other two letters in the postal box.

The moment he finished putting the plates on the table, Dudley came, tumbling down the stairs, and started jumping on the stairs above his cupboard, yelling:

"Potter, Potter, wake up! WAKE UP! We're going to the Zoo!"

Now normally Harry wasn't allowed to go anywhere with the Dursley's. He usually was left to a Mrs. Figgs, an old maid of 60, that had 5 cats and talked for hours of 60 other. However, today Arabella Figgs had a broken arm and no disposition to handle a ten year old, so his uncle had to take the uneasy decision to bring Harry along to their weekly trip.

Being cramped in the backseat of a small typical English car, alongside Dudley, was not Harry's best idea of an ideal trip. Nevertheless, a change from the never ending chores he had to do daily was always welcomed. Being forced to travel squished to the car window by his wale of a cousin, well that made Harry regret his previous thoughts and long for his Dudley free cupboard.

The trip to the Zoo was unexpectedly uneventful, if one does not count uncle Vernon's continuous threats and mutterings.

"I warn you again, Boy, if anything fishy happens, if you put one toe out of the line, you will not leave the cupboard for two weeks" he uttered, in between his teeth, as soon as the car entered the parking.

"Yes uncle Vernon", he replied dutifully, knowing that any other reply would not make his life any easier. There was a time for everything, and right now Harry knew that he had to play the obedient and submissive orphan nephew. The Dursley will get what they deserve in due course.

Harry separated himself from the family, full aware of the fact that he will not be missed. He ignored any other areas of the park and went directly to the Reptile House. Over there, he looked with longing to the snakes displayed, feeling their sorrow and regretting the captivity he himself felt each passing day.

He talked to the snakes, and unsurprisingly they replied in what he knew was parseltongue, a language that he mastered completly, due to Tom's memories. While having a conversation with a very wise python, bred in captivity, Dudly appeared and punching him in the back with his elbow, yelled:

"Come, Potter, it's time for us to meet mum and dad and go home. Quit starring like a dumb ass to that slimy snake and move on."

Greeting his teeth and repeating his mantra "I shall not Avada anyone today, I shall not Avada anyone today", Harry left his Slytherin friend to rejoin his family.


	3. Meeting Hagrid

Disclaimer:

Not mine, but Rowling's.

3. Meeting Hagrid

The following morning, the Dursley's, and Harry, were woken up by someone knocking on their front door. It should have been fine, except that Petunia was neither dressed nor wearing her makeup, and that the knocking sounded more like thunder striking.

Dressed in their bathroom robes, with Dudley and Harry in tow, they opened the door and found a mountain of a man staring at them. Again, nothing to worry but the fact that said man was looking more like a crazed yeti escaped from fiction books, wearing a superhero cape sort a thing, Petunia remembered was called a robe.

"You, she said in a pitched tone, you! Your kind has no business here. Leave us alone!", she then turned to Vernon and muttered in a frightened tone "it's one of them, dear, make him go away".

Vernon Dursley, though tending to resemble a full whale in a killing spree, could not even begin to compare to the giant gracing their threshold. He didn't have time to open his mouth to say a word that the raspy voice of the yeti made the whole house shake as if it were hit by an earthquake.

"Well wont you invite me in, heh? No need to worry, I'm on Hogwarts business, see. Handpicked by Dumbledore himself to introduce young Harry there to our world."

Now that was the last thing the two other grown ups wanted to hear. Having one of THEM in their house was bad enough, but having their nephew go and study in that school of freaks was absolutely inconceivable.

"Now see here Mister, whoever you are and whatever you do, I did not take the boy in and raised him so that he would just go to that circus you call a school and be taught by an old bag of fleas how to do freaky tricks" said Vernon, suddenly having found his voice.

"Never, never insult Albus Dumbledore in my face!" shouted the giant, taking one more step toward Vernon, who cowered in front of him and wisely kept quiet.

"Harry Potter" he said next, "by my word, last time I saw you, you were just a bundle that fit into my hand. Happy birthday laddy! Now, I bet you wonder what is all this about, don't you? To make this short, I am here to take you shopping for school supplies and tell you all about Hogwarts. But you already know all about it, don't ya?"

Up until now Harry watched slightly amused the developments but he did not enjoyed having four sets of eyes on himself. Of course that he knew that the half giant was the gatekeeper at Hogwarts, Dumbledore's lackey, a light wizard, but showing that he had the slightest idea of that was not an option he wanted to consider.

"No", he shyly uttered looking at the floor, " I do not know what you are talking about."

"Blimey Harry, you never wondered where you parents learned all that?"

"Learned what?"

"You mean that they never told you? Who you are, laddie, where you come from..."

"Of course we did not tell him! When we took him in we promised that he will never find out a thing! We knew that he was going to be like them like my perfect little sister. Oh, I remember the day my sister got the letter... My parents were so proud... We're going to have a witch in the family, isn't that marvelous. But I knew what she was, A FREAK. And the she went and married one of those freaks and when she had the BOY, I knew that he was going to end just as abnormal as she was. And the she got blown up and we got stuck with him!" Petunia sputtered.

"Blown up? Blown up?" Harry wondered aloud. "You told me that they died in a car accident!"

"A car accident kill Lily and James Potter? You must be mad!" Hagrid's voice echoed into the house. "Harry you're a wizard! A very powerful one, once you have got some training, I reckon. Now, get dressed and we'll leave for the Alley. No muggle will stop you from attending Hogwarts. You have my promise and Dumbledore's word.", he continued, throwing threatening glances to the other inhabitants of the room.

Fortunately, Vernon Dursley understood that he had no choice. His nephew would have to attend that school if he wanted to remain in one piece and so he calmed his wife and told Harry to hurry up and follow the man. The sooner he had the monster out of his house, the better. Moreover, 10 months a year, without his nephew sounded very promising, very promising indeed.

Harry ran to his cupboard and changed into his Sunday clothes - old leftovers from Dudley - and shoes and went back to the half giant.

"Sir, I am ready" he said in a respectful, shy voice.

"Grab my arm Harry, we're going to Apparate to London"

Now Apparating was not as easy as Harry remembered, nor as pleasant, but it was efficient because 10 seconds later he found himself in front of an old pub called The Leaky Cauldron.

The place was packed with witches and wizards, hags and half beings, drinking pints and smoking pipes. Harry felt disgusted at the mere thought of spending time in a place such as this. It was a huge difference between the parties given by the pure bloods and this... this dirt the commoners were used to. Nevertheless he put a curious and innocent smile on his face and followed Hagrid to the bartender.

"Hello Hagrid, the usual?" the said bartender greeted them.

"Oi Tom, I cannot spend time today, on Hogwarts business you see.. Have to buy school supplies with young Harry here!" the giant boomed.

"Bless my soul, Hagrid, is that Harry Potter?" Tom, the bartender, wondered aloud.

At those specific words the pub went suddenly quite, all it's occupants crowding around Harry, trying introduce themselves or to touch him.

Sensing Harry's discomfort, Hagrid shooed them away and led Harry to the backyard, were a brick wall closed the patio. Taking out his umbrella, Hagrid touched several bricks in a circular pattern that Harry knew very well, and the doorway to the alley opened, letting them pass to Diagon.

"This, Harry, is Diagon Alley, and from here we can get everything you've got on the list" said Hagrid.

"But Hagrid, I don't have any money" whispered Harry, disappointment layering his voice.

"Oh Harry, you don't think your parents left you nothing, heh? There's your money! Gringotts have it, and trust me, there's no safer place than that I tell ya!"

Gringotts, bank of goblins, stood tall and proud in the middle of the alley. It was a crouched building, resembling very much it's owners in style and lavish. On it's walls was carved a very old warning:

"Enter stranger with good will,

Your assets will grow and flourish

Goblins will guard,

Goblins will keep,

Have no fear about it.

Enter stranger with malicious intent,

Dishonest, to take from others,

Goblins will take and take and take

And your fortune will fade,

Of that we do promise"

Getting to a counter was the easy job, talking to the goblins, well that was harder. The old goblin looked at them, and in an irritated and bored voice asked them what they wanted.

"Erm... we are here about young Harry's vault." he started but was interrupted by the goblin.

"And has Mister Harry Potter brought his key?", the goblin inquired, raising a furry eyebrow.

"Erm... Yes. Oh. Here it is." said Hagrid, searching his many pockets and finally finding a small golden key.

"Gobllidon will attend you, Mr. Potter, to your vaults." the old goblin said to Harry.

"Thank you Sir, may your gold always flow with time" said Harry, taking a deep bow, and then followed the young goblin that suddenly appeared next to him.

He did not linger to see the god smacked expression of the goblin, who forgot to give the accustomed reply, nor the inquisitive expression of Hagrid who did not understand why the goblin started to tremble and loose it's cool. That was unheard of.

Harry endured the trip with the mini train through the caves of Gringotts with great stoicism, promising himself that he will get a never ending pouch linked to his account before the day was over.

They stopped in front of vault 515 and taking the key, he opened the Potter's vault to discover it packed with galleons and precious stones. Turning to Gobblidon, Harry said:

"Oh trustworthy one, please tell me, may I have a Never ending pouch linked to my account?"

The goblin, again taken by surprise of the use of formal goblin address by a young wizard not even out of school, confirmed that as soon as they were getting back to the main hall, the pouch will be linked and into his possession.

"And what about the Potter's ring? According to our laws an heir can wear the ring as long as there is no other relative alive that can claim the legacy. As I know I am the last Potter alive" Harry inquired.

"Yes Mister Potter, but we were told by Mr Dumbledore that you do not wish to claim yet the legacy. That's why we had not sent you the ring this past eleven years. I see now that perhaps, this is not the case?" the goblin babbled, his face growing red with anger and shame.

"We will rectify this in a minute Sir. Just put your hand on the crest below the vault's number and repeat after me:

I, Harry James Potter, heir to James Albert Potter and Lily Potter, accept the legacy I inherited from my forefathers. Let it be so that my word is written and my will be done, as long as I shall grace this earth and be no more"

As Harry repeated these words, he felt his magic stir and grow, flowing from his core to his hand. There it concentrate and it started to weave in gold and green colors, a new crest with a serpent swallowing a lion. A ring bearing the same crest appeared on his hand.

Gobblidon watched amazed what he knew happened as rare as the birth of a goblin: the rebirth of a new house out of an old one. He knew that the young man he had in front of him will become, if he already wasn't, a powerful wizard, a lord. Be it light or dark it did not matter to him, as business flowered better in time of war than peace, so he made a mental note to warn his supperiors not to anger or upset the young human.

Taking a deep bow, he proclaimed in a grave voice:

"Long live Lord Potter of the House of Serpents, may your gold always flow and may your will be done!"

Harry bowed in his turn, replying with the accustomed words:

"May you vaults always be full and may our friendship be forged on riches and truthfulness!"

"Our friendship was formed when you greeted my boss with our words, my Lord. We will keep your secret from any other humans, wizards and witches alike, but my superiors have to be informed about what happened here today. The House of Serpents has been reborn and won our respect and allegiance." the goblin said, taking another deep bow.

Harry smiled and muttered a few words, making his ring invisible to human and nonhuman eyes.

'Yes, the young Lord was very powerful indeed' the goblin thought, sensing the change of wind and shift of power in the magical word.

Harry rejoined Hagrid and after taking the promised bounded pouch, he left Gringotts and followed the giant to the Apothecary for ingredients, to Flourish and Boots for books, and then to Madam Malkin for robes and clothes.

Olivander's shop was next, and Harry went in there alone while Hagrid went to drink a pint in the Leaky Cauldron. Stepping inside of the dusty shop, Harry was greeted by the shop's owner, an old man with silvery eyes.

"Ah, I was wondering when you were coming in, Mr. Potter" he said.

"I remember as if it were yesterday, the moment when you parents got their first wands..."

He never had any chance to continue his speech that a black wand started trembling in it's box and zoomed past him, directly in Harry's hand.

As soon as harry grabbed it, a bright green light exploded from it, yellow fireworks dancing in the air.

The wand maker panicked when he realized exactly what happened and cursed with a frightened voice:

"Merlin's balls my lad. The wand chooses it's wizard, that I know, but never in my life have I seen such as this. That wand Mr Potter contains the skin of Death and it was given to my family 3000 years ago, to await it's master. We were bound to never disclose who it's master is or what it contains to anyone else, so your secret is safe, but I would recommend you to inform the Headmaster about it, Mr Potter. That wand is too dangerous to be in the hands of a mere child." he continued in a fatherly tone.

Harry, knowing that his secret was safe, and feeling empowered by the bounding with his ring and wand, he said in a threatening cold voice:

"You shall never speak of this to anyone, understood? The House of Serpents must stay dormant untill the time is right. You will write to Dumbledore and tell him that I got a normal wand with unicorn hair, unless you wish for your death. Am I clear, my dear Mr Ollivander?"

"Yes, my Lord" babbled the old man cowering behind the counter, suddenly realizing that change was upon the wizarding world. And what a change it was...

Having gathered all his belonging Harry left the old, dusty shop, and went looking for the Magical Menagerie. He needed a pet but knew that bringing a snake to Hogwarts would raise more suspicions than anything else so he decided that he would just see what the wizarding world had nowadays to offer.

The Magical Menagerie shop was empty, but for the shop assistant and a blond father with it's child, looking at the owls. He went straight to the snake's den, looking with longing at what should have been his, a black Egyptian mamba devouring it's prey. He heard and saw the fascinating ritual, and making sure that he was ignored by the others, he started a nice conversation with the snake. He listened to tales of Egypt, of catacombs, mummies and tombs, of forgotten rituals and spells, not realizing that the noises he made grew as other snakes joined their conversation.

The blond man and his son watched with fascination and dread the young scrawny boy conversing so easyly with serpents. They got closer and closer, and when the boy nodded once to what a black snake was saying, they realized with stupor that the child was no other than the Light's own Saviour, The Boy Who Killed Their Master.

He put a shaky hand on the boy's shoulder, forgetting one of the principal rules of the wizarding world: never surprise a wizard and not expect retaliation. He felt the boy jerk and turn around with inconceivable speed, and he felt a black wand pocking his ribs and trembling with power.

"Who are you and what do you want!" the Boy inquired through his greeting teeth.

"I... I... am sorry to disturb you, young lad, but I could not be oblivious to the fact that you can speak with them... You...You... can speak in the snake tongue" he babbled

"I see, I will have to rectify that" Harry muttered, "a quick Obliviate should do that, isn't that right Malfoy?" he said in a sarcastic tone.

The blonde's eyes grew big at the Boy's statement but he received an even bigger one with the Boy's next words.

"I know where your loyalties lie Lucius, yours and your family's. You might have fooled the Ministry and perhaps Dumbledore too, but you cannot fool me. Voldemort will be back, by my life he will and then the purebloods shall rule again and purge the filth that came over our world" Harry continued in a cold voice, void of any other emotion.

Listening to those words spoken with such intensity, and by the Boy Wonder, nonetheless, Malfoy understood that he was in no danger of discovery and that he had to keep a close eye on the child. He then looked at the hand holding the black wand and saw a glimpse of a ring, and the he knew that the boy, no Harry, was an ally and that he had nothing to fear. He then bowed, and offered his hand to the boy, saying in a slightly amused voice:

"I offer you my hand and my trust Lord Potter. I feel that this is the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship"

"I accept your hand and your trust Lord Malfoy, you may as well have mine" Harry answered, an innocent smile playing on his lips, but wasn't reflected in his eyes.

"May I introduce you to my son and heir, Draco Lucius Malfoy" the grown up wizard continued, and nudged the bewildered young eleven year old forward.

"Nice to meet you Draco" Harry continued, taking the shaking hand of the boy, and smiling at him.

"A pleasure", Draco smiled in reply, understanding that he had his father's approval to make friends with the strange boy that stood in front of him.

"Are you alone in the Alley, Harry?" Draco asked in a shy voice, not wanting to create any discomfort to his new friend.

"Now actually, Dumbledore sent one of his lackey to, I quote, "introduce" me to the wizarding world. As if I need any introducing to it. Believe me, the old coot is as mad as a wild hog. I am here with the mudlover Hagrid." Harry answered, again in his sarcastic, cold as ice tone.

Pleased of what he was hearing, Mr Malfoy smiled, knowing very well that their side has just gain an unexpected alley and that the balance of power shifted immensely in their favor. Indeed, the wind of changes was blowing and it brought them hope and the promise of a brighter, purer future.

"And what pet did you want to get, Harry?" Draco continued, oblivious to his father's musings.

"Well I wanted to get a snake, Isis over there sounds like a very good option, but unfortunately bringing a snake with me to Hogwarts would raise unwanted suspicions. I need, no, I have to keep a low profile under the old hog's nose. Don't want to ruin my reputation as the Boy Who Lived, it's wiser that way.." Harry continued in a disappointed and bitter tone.

"Harry" Lucius stepped in, "get the Mamba, and if she promises to behave and not attack my family and guests, I will keep it for you as long as you are at Hogwarts".

Harry's face brightened hearing that statement and nodding, he turned to Isis and obtained her promise to behave and be a good house snake as long as she graced the Malfoy's residence. After having bought the serpent, acquisition that startled the shop assistant, Harry and the Malfoys parted ways with promises to meet the following day at the train station.

Rejoining Hagrid in the pub, Harry booked a room for that evening, no need to go back to Surrey that day and meet the wrath of the Dursley's.

He spent the evening scanning the first grade books, making sure that he had all the information and spells correctly memorized and getting ready to see Hogwarts for the first time as Harry, not Voldemort, not Tom, not The Boy Who Lived, but just Harry.


	4. The Sorting Hat

Disclaimer:

Not mine... bah!

4. The Sorting Hat

Harry got to the King Cross train station at 10 am the following morning and went through the barrier to the platform 9 and 3/4. There, the Malfoy's were waiting for him, prim and proper, not a hair out of place as any self conscious wizarding family should be.

Harry greeted them and inquired about Isis. According to Lucius, the snake was already gracing their garden in France, lazying in the sun and scarring the garden gnomes away.

He then helped the two boys get their trunks into an empty compartment and told them to be wary of everyone and not to associate with other houses except Slytherin. He congratulated them for their sorting, assuring them that there was no other choice for them but to end in Slytherin.

It was really amazing how Harry managed to switch in between being an adult at times and an utter boy, more his age than any other some other times.

He got extremely emotional, when Lucius hugged not only Draco, but him also, and told them to behave and to write home weekly. Moreover, he received the promise that the following holidays will not be spent with the Muggles and that the Malfoy will initiated the custody procedures so that Harry could grow into a proper family.

With watery eyes Harry watched Lucius leaving the station, in order to avoid the soon to be crowded platform, full of mudbloods and simpletons.

Turning to Draco they started to exchange opinions, comparing what they knew about the sorting, the teachers, Hogwarts and it's grounds.

Twenty minutes later, they were interrupted by two sturdy and very similar boys, that entered their compartment and froze when they saw Malfoy deep into a conversation with a black haired unknown boy.

"Hey Draco, the brown haired one said, is this fella bothering you? Just say the word and we'll throw him out for ya." he continued.

"Watch your words, Goyle, Harry here is my friend, so he is not to be touched. Understood?" Draco quipped in a bossy, firm, tone used to giving orders.

The boys eyes grew bigger, and moved in between the boy's forehead were a most famous scar could be seen, and Draco.

"Is that HIM?" the other boy, Harry knew was the Crabbe heir, exclaimed, his eyes growing even bigger. "How come is he here with you? A Malfoy and a Potter..."

"Quit babbling Crabbe, Potter is one of us, got it? Now take a seat and please stop with the starring. It's irritating me to no end!"

The boys took a seat, flanking Harry and Draco from both sides, listening with awe to their conversation. They decided then and there that they would protect both boys with the price of their life, if needed, and joined the conversation with insightful comments that no one ever expected could come from the two bullies.

At 11 sharp the train departed, heading towards Scotland, where the school was located, hidden to Muggles by repelling spells and charms.

Halfway through the trip a bushy haired girl opened their compartment door and asked about a toad. Seeing that she was ignored by the four occupants of the compartment, she dressed her voice and took a better look at them. Seeing Harry, she immediately realized who he was and exclaimed:

"Oh my God, you are Harry Potter! I have read all about you in Wizards Across Time and in The Rise and Fall of Dark Wizards. You are not at all what I expected" she continued.

Her words were interrupted by a very cold and bored tone that sent icy chills to her spine and made her take a step back.

"Yes, I am, and you are?" the boy inquired, raising an eyebrow and fingering his ebony wand.

"oh yes. I am Hermione Granger and I am going to Hogwarts. I have read all about it in Hogwarts A History. When we, I mean my family and I, found out that I was a witch, we went to the Alley and got all these books about the wizarding world in order to be well prepared and"

"Ah... a muggleborn then..." Harry step in again, smirking and throwing a warning glance to Draco.

"Leave Granger, there's no bloody toad in here" he continued, flicking his wand.

The compartment door opened again with Harry's wand movement, and Hermione Granger found herself in the hall, starring at a closed door.

The demonstration of silent spell casting that Harry displayed enforced the other three soon to be Slytherins desire to forge a long-lasting friendship with the strange Boy Who Lived.

Soon, they arrived in the Hogsmeade train station were they were gathered round by Hagrid and seated in small wooded boats that headed to the castle.

They were taken into a great hall, were an middle aged stern looking lady, dressed in emerald robes waited for them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts School of Magic and Wizardry. While you are here you shall be sorted into four houses. Your housemates will be oyu family for your remaining seven years. If you behave and study you shall gain house point, if not you shall loose them. The House that has most points by the end of the school year will win the House Cup – a great honor. The houses are as following: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin."

"Now step into a line and follow me. Let the sorting begin!"

The Great Hall was... well...great, divided in four areas. There were four long tables, bearing the flags of their specific houses and standing before then was the teacher's table. The ceiling was imitating the morose weather outside, drops of watter falling from heavy grey clouds, vanishing half a meter above their heads.

At the teachers table, right in the middle, Harry recognized Dumbledore in the Headmaster's handcrafted seat. His eyes twinkled while they felt upon Harry and then he stood and the hall felt silent.

In front of the four house tables stood a high chair, with an old tatty hat. Taking out a scroll from her robes, Professor McGonagall removed a thin little band from the hat and unsurprisingly it started singing:

"I am the wise all knowing hat,

That on Godric Griffyndor's head sat

I see what's in your mind and heart,

Too sort each and everyone I like

Chosen from quite a few,

I am the most powerful tool.

Welcome to Hogwarts young witches and wizards,

The brave, courageous and audacious,

To Gryffindor's like,

The smart and knowledge seekers,

To Ravenclaw's belong,

The quiet, nice and loyal

They're Hufflepufs you see,

The cunning, sneaky and ambitious

Salazar Slytherin's pride and joy.

So, my young-lings, as you can see

I sort and choose and find and seek

As instructed by the Hogwarts's Four

To divide and unite against all foes!"

As the Hat finished it's song, McGonagall unrolled a long parchment and started shouting the first years names.

As the sorting went on, Crabbe, Goyle and Draco were joined at the Slytherin's table by Theodore Nott, another pureblood, and by three other girls: Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bullstrode.

Then, after a redhead boy was sent to the Gryffindor table, Harry heard the teacher's voice shouting his name. Unsurprisingly, everything went silent before the whispers begun.

He heard muttering from the older students, everyone started to rise and try to get closer to have a better look at the Boy Who Lived And Finally Came To Hogwarts.

He stood on the stool and with firm hands he grabbed the hat and shoved it onto his head.

"Ahh... Young Mister Potter" he heard a voice inside his mind, and immediately remember that hat's powers to see you as an open book.

"You see Mister Potter, I have strict instructions from our Headmaster over there to put you in Griffindor. He panicked today when he heard that you did not meet, as he intended, the Weasleys at the barrier. And so he wanted to be sure that you get the right friends and guidance..."

"That old, meddling fool.. He will get what's his. Now sort me where I belong HAT, or else I promise you this is the last sorting you'll ever do" Harry threatened.

"All in good time Mr. Potter, all in good time... But as I see, our wishes coincide, there's actually no better place for you to be. And so, without any ado, better be... SLYTHERIN!" the Hat shouted the last word aloud, for the whole Hall to hear.

Harry removed the Sorting Hat and watched with hidden amusement the partially horrified and partially surprised faces of his fellow student. The only ones that seemed satisfied were the Slytherins, and it was so thanks to Draco who took care to inform them on the state of the matter.

And so, slowly, the Slytherins started raising to their feet and clapping in unison, with elegance an style.

Harry Potter, newly sorted Slytherin, took a seat next to Draco and ignored the stares and the muttering coming from the other houses.

He took a goblet full with pumpkin juice and smiling at Draco, relaxed and waited for the sorting to be over.

As the hat was removed from the stool, he looked at Dumbledore, meeting his eyes and saw the disappointed look of a man who's life plans have just been thwarted. He easily repelled, though with intended awkwardness, the Headmaster first attempt at Legilimency and analyzed the other occupants of the teacher's table.

Next to the old man, stood a strange man wearing a turban, displaying what seemed to proud smile. Looking into his eyes Harry felt his magic warning him of the presence of another. So much like him and yet completely different, so much like Tom, but still too week to matter.

"Not yet, my friend, we must not raise suspicions, he informed the inhabitant of the teacher" and the teacher composed itself and nodded approvingly.

On his right, a black haired teacher, with a crooked nose and eyes as black as night watched him with a guarded, suspicious look. He remembered the man, a faithful follower, a snake amongst lions, a master potioneer and Head of the Slytherin House. He nodded to him, raising his glass and as his eyes grew colder, he sent another silent message:

"Now, now, Severus, we don't want an old school rivalry spoil a beautiful friendship, do we?"

He saw the potion master choke on his drink and dropping the goblet on the table. The teacher send another sharp look to the Boy Who Did Not Die and Harry innocently smiled at him, shrugging his shoulders.

Severus Snape nodded and made a mental note to write to Lucius that night and get as much information as possible about the strange Boy Who Was Not Suppose To Be Sorted In His House. His decision was based on the fact that his House behavior was odd and that Draco was too friendly and seemed to know to well what he was doing in order for him not to suspect anything more.

Without knowing, the wheels of fate turned that moment while Severus Snape changed the course of his life, costing the light another follower they could not have afforded to loose had they known about it.

What followed next was the Headmaster's speech, containing a welcome to Hogwarts, a few warnings and several words as nitwits, odds, bublesomething, that Harry found very odd and it confirmed what he already knew: the old man wasn't in his right minds anymore.

As soon as the speech ended, food appeared on the table, probably brought by the house elves.

Choosing a light dinner over the more spicy and greasy meals displayed on the table, Harry enjoyed the clattering of forks hitting the dishes and the quiet, intelligent conversations carried by his house mates.

He soon found himself yawning and walking along Draco, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, through the castles corridors, in the dungeons, heading towards the Slytherin Common Room.

He suddenly stopped the others in front of a big painting containing a man petting a huge snake.

"Why are we stopping here Harry" asked Goyle surprised.

"This is the entrance to our rooms guys", he replied, not taking the eyes of the painting.

"Yes, but we do not have the bloody password" continued Crabbe.

"Shush you and let Harry work his magic" observed a smirking Draco, trusting his friend.

"May you have a well rest, Lord Slytherin" Harry hissed in parseltongue, ignoring Crabbe and Goyle's startled expressions and whitening faces.

"Who is dissssturbing my rest, my ssssweet, Salazar Slytherin asked his snake. The snake uncoiled his head out of it's master's shoulder and looked at Harry straight in the eyes.

"A younsssg boy, my Lorrrrd... He speakkksss..." replied the snake.

"Yessss, and who might you be, young lad?" he inquired, without taking his hands away of his beloved pet.

"Harry Potter, my Lord, an alley of Tom Riddle and an heir of your bloodline, twice removed of squib forefathers. I seek you help, counsel and entrance to the Common Room" said Harry, bowing as low as he could.

"Yes, I remember your mother... She never wanted to admit being one of my blood, preferred to be known as a moodblood instead. So you denied your parents and refused thy name, have you young Lord of the House of Serpentsss... I am pleased, great nephew... You may have your wish fulfilled. Welcome to your legacy Harry Potter." he hissed, and let them pass into what was going to become their home for the next seven years.

The others watched with fascination the conversation between Harry and the old man, that later they found out was the founder of their house. When the discussion ended, they entered the room and felt castle's magic shift and sparkle to life in order to great one of it's heirs.

The three other Slytherins understood the importance of what just happened and thought with fright at what other surprises their young friend might have in store for them.

On the other side of the dungeons, in the House Head chambers, Severus Snape stood in front of the fireplace, trying to recover after the informations he received from Lucius, by floo.

He now understood that he had to make a choice, between Dumbledore on one side, and Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort on the other side. He knew full well that the light side had already lost the battle, just that they were not aware of this yet. He tried to imagine what thoughts passed right now through Dmbledore's head at seeing all his plans thwarted and congratulated himself for swearing an oath to protect the child and not one to serve the light.

He was awakened from his mussing by Salazar's presence in his office.

"Young Snape, I have good news for us, good news indeed. My other heir has returned and reclaimed the legacy. My line is complete now" hissed Salazar to the protector of his house.

"Are you sure, Lord Slytherin, that it's not just another plan of Dumbledore to get more information out of you?" said Snape, cautions and prudent as was his nature.

"Do not fret Severus and do not doubt me... He bores the ring... The House of Serpents has been reclaimed after 500 years of silence, and, together with Tom, my other heir, they shall be unstopped." Salazar stated, confident and proud as he hadn't been for over a millennium.

"The wind of changes brought our enemies on their knees, young Snape. Trust into my heirs and protect them, serve them as you served my house and my children for all these years" finished Salazar Slytherin and left the young man alone, to gather his thought and prepare for his welcoming speech.

Severus Snae knew at that moment that his choice has been already made for him. Wherever Harry went, he had to go, and it was even better if he didn't need to pretend that he hated him anymore, as the boy has been sorted into his house and not into that of Godric Griffyndor.

And thus, he put his cape on, and billowing as the great bat he was rumored to be, he left the quietness of his rooms to talk to his children.

He found the Common Room crowded and in a greater fuss than usual. As soon as he stepped through the painting, all voices stopped and waited for their House Head to say something.

"Welcome to another year in Slytherin, young and old snakes." he begun. "As always, I expect good result from each and every one of you. If you need to break the rules or sneak around, do it, but do not get caught. I do not tolerate point loss. We have won the House Cups for as long as I have been working here and this will be the eight year in a row it shall adorn my office. Understood?" he bellowed.

"Yes, Professor Snape" replied the Slytherins at once.

"Now, I do not want to hear about any fights happening outside of our Common Room. We have to present an united front for the other houses. They will be wary and suspicious of any of you, and if you are alone they will attack you. So first years, never wander alone. The password for the common room is parselmagic. Never give it away to anyone. Be it house mates or friends, because you never know if they have not been polyjuiced. Any conversation of importance is to be held in the common rooms. The paintings from the castle have ears and give weekly reports to Dumbledore and unless you do not want for him to know all your dirty little secrets you will keep your mouths shut. Homework is to be done here or in the library, and whatever happens I do not accept excuses for going unprepared to lessons. While you are here, you follow my rules and behave as the pureblooded wizards you were raised to be. Otherwise, you are free to pack your trunk and go home at this moment. Am I clear enough?"

"Yes, Professor Snape" the Slytherins replied again in a what seemed to be a well trained chorus.

"And now, off to bed children with you all. Make Salazar Slytherin and his noble house proud to have you in!" he smirked and left the silent room, robes billowing behind.

"Wicked" Harry exclaimed, impressed by the firmness and determination displayed by their House Head.

"Yeah, uncle Sev's like that, a tough nut to crack but once you did it, he's a big softy" whispered Draco, not at least impressed by his godfather's antiques.

With all that was left said and done, they headed to their dormitories where they already found their trunks seated next to a bed. They changed and immediately went asleep, dreaming of wooden boats, flowing over dark waters carrying them to a mighty magical castle, with hidden passages and mysteries to uncover. And, for the first time ever, Harry slept with a smile on his face, feeling safe, feeling at home. He did not had any nightmares that night.


	5. Confrontation and a Meeting

Disclaimer:

None of the original plot and characters belong to me. Grrrrr... This makes me mad as a hat.

5. Confrontation and a Meeting

"There, look"

"Where?"

"Next to the kid with blond hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

"Slytherin bastard!"

"Has to be the next dark lord, all Slytherins go bad!"

"Slimy snake!"

Whispers followed Harry the moment he left his dormitory in the dungeons the next day. Students lined up outside their classes, in the corridors, starring. Harry wished he could hex the all to get a moment of so needed silence.

There were six hundred sixty seven stairs at Hogwarts, moving and vanishing without a pattern, there were doors that didn't open unless you asked nicely or doors that weren't at all doors but stubborn walls pretending to be more. The halls were full with portraits and paintings, that craned their necks and followed the Boy Who Lived.

There were many ghost that traveled through the corridors, ignoring the world of the living, lost in their morbid thoughts.

And there was Peeves the Poltergeist, terror of the halls, always planning ways to disrupt the way things worked.

Even worst than Peeves, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Some first year Gryffindors, the rumor has it, managed to get on his wrong side by being found trying to make their way through the forbidden, out-of-bound corridor on the third floor. They were saved by a stuttering Quirell from the threat of being hung, from their toes, in the dungeons by the man.

Filch owned a cat, Mrs. Norris, a scrawny lamp like eyed creature. She patrolled the corridors alone, fetching her master at the smallest disrupt of peace in the castle. All students hated him, agreeing that Mrs Norris deserved a good kick.

As Harry already knew, the students discovered that there was more to magic than uttering some incantations and waving a wand.

They had to study the sky, tend the plants in Professor Sprout's Herbology class, learn the History of Magic from a very old ghost - Professor Binns- that seemed to develop a passion for the Goblin Wars.

And the there was the Transfiguration class, taught by the stern HeadMistress with emerald robes, Harry remembered with glee his first class.

The Slytherin quartet, whelped by Harry were the first to arrive and chose to seat in the far end of the class near the window.

Slowly the class filled with Gryffindors as well as Slytherins, when a tabby cat entered the class and sat on the professors desk. A few moments later, the youngest Weasley entered the room in a rush, accompanied by the Longbottom heir.

"God, that was close" the Weasley remarked, taking a sea in the front desk, the only one left.

As he was taking out his book, the cat suddenly transformed in front of their own eyes into their Professor and said in a high pitched voice:

"Mr Weasley, Mr Longbottom, you two are late, the class started a while ago!"

"We're sorry, P-professor, we got lost!"

"The perhaps you need a map to find your way to the classes in time" she quipped again.

She firmly stopped the snickering coming from their classmates and continued in a stern voice:

"Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous form of magic you will ever learn at Hogwarts. Misbehave in my class and you will be home before you can say Quidditch. You have been warned!"

Then, she continued to turn her desk into a pig and back again and started to explain the basics of the art.

At the end of the class, the only ones who managed to perform the transfiguration of a match into a needle were Draco, Harry and Crabbe and Goyle - with a small help from the other two, and that irritating Granger mudblood who got into Griffindor aswell.

Despite the fact that Harry was the first to complete the transfiguration and that by far, his needle was the most complex and beautiful, the professor didn't award him any points. Instead, she awarded the mudblood ten points for her success and gave them as homework a two feet long essay concerning Interpretation and Imagination in Transfiguration.

Harry ignored his friends and colleagues mutterings about the unfairness of the Headmistress. He knew life was unfair and from Tom's memories he remembered how thick and prejudiced Minerva McGonagall really was. No need to get into that for now.

They had their lunch, went into Charms where the small Professor named Flitwick fell over his books when he read Harry's name during call roll. Again, though being the first one who mastered the levitation charm, the points went to the Granger girl.

Harry was not vexed, nor angry, not even bothered by the clear unfairness of his teachers. He had no respect for women and men who required it but did not manage to earn it. The coolness and indifference he presented calmed his fellow companions but kept them on their toes, knowing that it was only the calm before the storm.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts class smelled of something putrid and garlic. Rumor had it that Professor Quirell had a most unfortunate encounter with a vampire in a forest from Albania, and, since then, he made daily infusions with the awful stench in order to keep the undead away. The class was as boring as a Defence class could be, and Harry snickered when he heard the pathetic attempts of the babbling Professor to try and keep the class in order.

'So finally Tom got the Defense class he wanted' Harry mused, thinking at the incompetence displayed by the Headmaster, allowing a Dark Lord undercover teach the most useless class they had. The most funny part was that he didn't even suspect a thing.

The Potions class, was, as expected, resembling it's Professor. Severus Snape kept them on their toes all the time, intervening with the most unexpected questions in the most inopportune times.

In the beginning of the class, he felt himself being tested by the lanky Professor with sallow skin and crooked teeth. As soon as he got into the class, after a quite fascinating speech, Severus Snape's eyes rested on him:

"Harry Potter. Our new celebrity!" he exclaimed.

"Tell me Potter, what you get if you add an infusion of asphodel on a wormood infusion?"

"The Draught of the Living Dead, Sir" Harry quipped, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Good, and where can we find a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat sir, it's used to cure most poisons, sir." the reply came as swiftly as the question ended.

"And please enlighten me Potter, what is the difference between moonkshood and aconite?" inquired the professor again.

"None, sir"

"Very good, Harry." He then nodded his head in his direction and Harry thought he caught the glimpse of a smile before his expression changed into the impassive trained one he bored most of the time.

"Why are you not writing all this down?" he further bellowed to the class.

They had to create a Boiling Cure Potion on that day. Unsurprisingly, Harry managed to finish first and handle a perfect potion half through his class. The Potion Master awarded the Slytherin house with 25 points and sent the cauldron to Madam Pomfrey, for stock renewal.

While heading towards his desk, Harry felt two hateful pair of eyes setting on his back and turning his head he saw the Granger girl and the Weasel glaring at him.

He smirked and saluted them, giving Draco a hi five.

At the end of the class, the only ones that earned their houses points, were the Slytherins. Granger's cauldron exploded at the end of the last hour, because the redheaded Weasley did not manage to put the correct ingredient into their cauldron. The second explosion that day was from Longbottom's cauldron, who had a simillar fate due to the pressure it was under. Suffice to say that the Gryffindor lost 50 points more than they earned that day and it showed on their faces.

Steppping out of the classroom, Harry was met by the four Gryffindors.

"Potter, I knew all along you were a dark slimly git" spat Ronld Bilius Weasley, his face turning one shade redder than his hair.

"Yes, of course, Ron, no one other than a dark evil wizard could defeat another one. You bastard. Holy Potter, the teacher's pet." snorted Hermione in her squeaky voice.

"Step out of the way Weasel, Mudblood, or else I will not be held responsible of my actions" Harry calmly replied.

"How dare you, how dare you call her that" shouted Weasley, tightening his fists, ready to deliver a punch.

Fortunately, or better said unfortunately for him, the Potions Master stepped out of the shadows and grabbed Weasley and Granger by their collars saying in a dangerous tone:

"How dare you threaten a student in my presence? Up to the Headmaster with you. Had you been in my house, you would have been packing by now. But alas, it's not my decision to make" he spat.

"But Professor, he called me a... a..." Hermione babbled

"Did he? I did not hear a thing girl, he did not say anything except that if you do not leave him alone he will not take responsibility of his actions" Snape continued, not even throwing a glance at Harry.

Yes, Slytherin stood together, be it student, teacher or ghost and Harry understood that.

And so, the teacher departed with the two insolent brats in tow, but not before relieving the Gryffindors of 100 points more.

Harry rejoined his mates for dinner in the great hall and told them what happened.

The following day the Gryffindor house was in an uproar. It was common knowledge that three first years cost the house 150 points in their first day of school. They received nasty glances from all the other and were ostracized by their own house mates. This only increased Ron's and Hermione's friendship, tight together by their common hate of Harry.

The week passed quickly, Sunday bringing their first day off and and the weekley mail. Draco and Harry both received mail from the Malfoys, along with a pack of homemade sweets for both.

While Draco's letter contained ideas, reassurance and inquires, Harry's had informations about the developments concerning his custody. Lucius managed to get from the minister a copy of the Potter's will and it seemed that his parents mentioned that under no circumstance was he supposed to be raised by his Muggle relatives.

The custody rightfully belonged to his godfather, a Sirius Black, that was imprisoned in Azkaban. Upon certain diggings, the Malfoy patriarch discovered that Black did not receive a proper trial after the fall of Voldemort and was pulling strings in the Ministry and in the Wizengamot to reopen the case of the convicted man. It was just a matter of time an money, Lucius assured him, until he will be removed from his uncle's care. The case was solid and it appeared that Black was innocent of all charges.

Harry wrote a quick letter, explaining Dumbledore's machinations and what he believed to be the Headmaster's plan. The culprit was a Peter Pettigrew and the Headmaster sacrificed his Godfather for the greater good, in order for Harry to be broken and more malleable to his will.

Harry stood awake most of that night, thinking of how much he owned Dumbledore and in what measures was he to repay him, ten folded indeed. He hoped of a better future, a brighter one in his godfather's care. He dreamed of having a family, a real one and friends that cared. He dared to hope as he never dared before, thinking that maybe, just maybe his dreams were not far fetched at all.

While Harry dreamed and thought, and hoped, in the Headmaster's Office a meeting of another kind took place.

Summoned by Dumbledore, one by one, the professors arrived through the Gryphon door.

"My dearly beloved colleagues, we have gathered here for you to share your opinion of the first week of school" Dumbledore begun, blue eyes twinkling madly, pink robes and all.

"Oh yes Albus, a good crop it is. Miss Granger is the best student of them all" Minerva quipped quickly, not bothering to wait at all.

"Miss Granger might be studying a lot McGonagal, but she is not the best student. She is an impertinent aggravating know-it-all. I say two of my Slytherins are better than her" Snape cut her off. "Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter are the best of them all. Potter displays knowledge and power and performs brilliantly as well, while Draco's not that far behind. Moreover you bright young star threatened my student from the first day. She clearly lacks intelligence and honor and her mouth runs off as well." he continued.

"Minerva, dear, I must admit, Snape is right" intervened Flitwick, the Charms Professor. "Those two would have done well in Ravenclaw, but alas, the Hat had it's way".

McGonagall huffed and puffed, not wanting to admit that her muggleborn student was not the brightest of the all.

"I h-h-h-aave tt-oo adddmitt to Severusss" babbled Quirell from his seat.

"They are very insightful and clever Minerva" Sinistra admitted. "Their work is impeccable their attitude respectful. Miss Granger reads and memorizes a lot but I must remind you that books are not everything, not everything at all."

"I see" Dumbledore continued, "I had hopes that young Mr Potter would grace with his presence the Griffindor House. I even tried talking to the hat for a resorting but it promised not to sort ever again if forced to choose against her nature and judgment. It seems that Mr Potter is indeed better suited for Slytherin, thought he had had done well in any other house." he regretfully remarked.

"He's bright and eager to learn more, Headmaster. His spell work has no flaws, and it seems that everything comes to him more natural, more quickly than to others... As if, as if he already knew them... But that's impossible, you see..." Flitwick continued.

"Tell me then, Professor, why didn't you award him any points? Is it because he's a snake, more precious than you Ravenclaws?" Snape spat disgusted by his colleague's hypocrisy.

Flitwick's neck and years went red with shame. He opened twice his mouth but no word came out.

Dumbledore listened with interest the discussions and debates, resting assured that at least for now, the boy was safe. He did not like the hat's decisions, but as long as the boy was under his watchful eyes, all was not lost.

He left the meeting with a good night and called his phoenix, Fawkes, put on his nightcap, popped a lemon drop and dream of a yellow haired boy playing with a 7 year old girl.

The meeting ended within huffs and puffs. The anger between the House Heads reaching new picks and heats.

Severus swore that no matter what and how, if the others were unfair with his snakes he will manage to even everything out. It did not matter he took points for sneezes and laughs, as long as he took what they didn't deserve out.


	6. Halloween

Disclaimer:

Not mine, but Rowling's

6. The promise

The weeks passed by, along with September, and then it was the time for Halloween. The castle was in a fuss, preparing for the feast while the pureblooded Slytherins prepared for Samhain.

Few remembered that Halloween originated in the old pagan holly day called Samhein. Originally a Gaelic harvest festival, otherwise known as the Celtic "New Year", it marked the end of the "lighter half" of the year and the beginning of the "darker half" and contained all the elements of a Festival of the Dead. The Slytherins, conservators in beliefs, remembered and prepared for their own celebrations that were supposed to take place in the dungeons as soon as the Feast from the Great Hall ended.

Harry's breakfast was interrupted hat morning by the Malfoy house owl carrying a letter and the Daily Prophet. He opened the letter and with a smile on his face read one of the best news ever.

Sirius Black's trial has been approved and was scheduled for the first week of the winter vacations.

Moreover, Mr Malfoy sent him an invitation to spend Christmas at the Malfoy Manner, with the promise to attend the trial.

In the letter, he was urged to read the front page of the newspaper and to RSVP to the invitation.

Without a second thought, Harry took an empty parchment sheet and wrote on it a quick message to the Malfoy scion, informing him that he gladly accepts his invitation. After giving the owl a treat, he handled the message to the faithful post carrier and took the Prophet from the table.

"Sirius Black, condemned without trail: Innocent or Guilty?

Today it was revealed in a private news conference held by our beloved Minister, Cornelius Fudge and the esteemed Lucius Malfoy, that Sirius Black has been condemned by Barty Crouch and the Wizengamot without a semblance of a trail.

Now this humble correspondent wonders how could this happen as any man, beast and creature is, according to our laws innocent until proven contrary? Has our world forgot that in order to function we need to maintain and obey the law?

Many would say that after He Who Must Not Be Named was defeated by Harry Potter, also known as the Boy Who Lived, the times were chaotic and such a thing as justice was not in their minds. But we all know that trials were held for any suspicious person, from the most dangerous to the innocent. The how come one of our kind has been sent to prison without having the means to at least defen itself?

This reporter wants to remember her fellow witches and wizards one of the first articles from our constitution: no one stands above the law. As our laws ear no exception, how come exceptions have been made at the caprice of those in seats of power? Is that what abuse means? Yes, if we talk about an abuse of power.

Moreover, in the same press conference, it has been brought to our knowledge another abuse, this time concerning the Boy Who Lived himself. It has come to our attention that the Potter's will has been utterly disregarded and that Harry Potter has been sent to live with his relatives against the express wishes of his parents. On the list for the boy's custody stood the above mentioned Sirius Black, which was and remains the boy's legal guardian as his godfather. The second person who could have received the custody if Black was unable to, should have been Remus Lupin, a friend of the family. Instead, Harry Potter was sent to live with his muggle relatives and was ignorant of his descent and status until the day he received his Hogwarts letter.

Now tell me, dear readers how come in a post He Who We Still Fear To Name era, a will is willfully disregarded by the authorities. Is it possible that our "esteemed" Wizengamot sent an innocent man to Azkaban in order to manipulate the fate of an infant child? Have we as a society sunk so low to ignore the wishes of our Saviour's deceased parents?

The daily Prophet has tried the reach the supreme Mungup, Albus Dumbledore by post but the owls have come empty beaked.

Nevertheless, we were promised that an inquiry is in roll and as soon as we receive new developments, we will keep you posted.

The Black trial will be held on the 17th of December, and it's an opened door one.

The Minister promised us full transparency and that justice will be done. Until then, Sirius Black has been removed from Azkaban and is now being held in a cell in the Ministry.

Upon further notice, this reporter puts her quill to rest and prays that we could all learn for our mistakes to avoid history repeating itself.

Rita Skeeter, special correspondent

Send us an owl with you thought!"

Turning a discreet look towards the teacher's table, Harry obesrved with great interest the reaction of the teachers to Skeeter's article.

The first to display any reaction was McGonagall, who gasped, and covering her mouth with her right hand, stood abruptly from the table, drawing the attention of all students present in the Great Hall. With watery eyes she turned towards the Headmaster and uttered three words that resonated through the castle:

"Albus, you fool!"

She the gathered her robes and ran from the Hall, sobbing and muttering incomprehensible words.

The Headmaster's usually twinkling blue eyes were dull and hearing his Deputy's admonishment frowned and then proceeded to crumble the paper in his old, thin hands.

It really was a stand up performance, or at least that was what Harry thought. The Headmaster's face managed to display in no more than 10 seconds all the colors of the rainbow, before setting on a white as snow complexion.

He raised his eyes from his hands and locked them into Harry's own emerald one.

Harry immediately felt the intrusion against his mental shields and strengthening the walls, he pulled as hard as possible.

Albus Dumbledore staggered back, falling into his chair, eyes an mouth wide opened. The boy was unreadable, a natural and powerful Occlumence, if he ever saw that before. He should have realized that the first time he attempted to intrude his mind, but he failed to see it. This was an unwanted complication to his best laid plans. Not only that the Boy was out of his influence and his grasp, being sorted into Slytherin, but now, because of his intrusion, Harry, no Potter, will never come to trust him enough to let him mold his mind.

The Headmaster looked at the Potter Heir and saw the rage and mistrust swimming below the cool surface. The Boy knew what he tried to do and if he would file a complaint...

Albus Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth and sent a sweet sickening smile to the boy in question. 'No', he thought, 'Harry was a Potter, the heir of Gryffindor. It will take a lot of work to right the wrongs but he will prevail. He will have his weapon no matter what.'

The Head of the Snakes, observed from his seat the hidden interaction between the young Slytherin and the Headmaster. He gritted his teeth when he realized what the old man attempted to do and was about to intervene on the behalf of the boy, when the old man was forced back with unusual strength. Severus Snape was enraged.

Severus Snape had no family he could call his own. His mother died during his third year at Hogwarts and his so called father passed away a few years after, ironically drowned in his own vomit on the way home from the local pub.

He knew what abuse meant, for being subject to an abusive father usually taught you that and he vowed that he will not stand while another goes through the same experiences he had lived in his father's house.

Severus Snape was furios.

While it was true that he had no living relatives, he considered the dungeons his home and the young Slytherins his children and thus, any offense, any attempt to injure or harm one of his loved ones was not allowed.

Unwillingly and unknowingly, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, supreme Mungup of the Wizengamot, owner of Order Merlin, First Class, gained an unsuspected and unexpected enemy in the person of his Potion Master.

The article about Black did not affect Severus Snape whatsoever, having been previously informed by Lucius about the upcoming trial initiated to remove the boy from Dumbledore's machinations.

Furthermore, the rivalry between him and Sirius Black had ended as soon as they stepped into the real world but nobody, except their closest friends knew of the tentative friendship the two forged while joining the Order and working on behalf of the light.

Yes, Severus Snape was glad to find out that the mutt will be released and that the following trial will mare the up-until-now impeccable reputation of one Albus Dumbledore.

Harry ignored for the rest of the day the whispers and hushed mutterings of the student body concerning his Godfather's trial. He did not know, nor did he care about the Gryffindor's taunts and sneers, the Hufflepuff's indignation or the Ravenclaw's eloquent justifications.

Harry shared the information he received from Mr Malfoy and what happened at breakfast to his friends. They made plans to attend the Malfoy Christmas party and the trial together while the other boys promised not to ever leave him alone while the Headmaster graced the castle with his presence.

"You never know what the old bastard will do next" argumented the Malfoy heir.

"And you never know when you'll need some muscles" grunted Crabbe, while flexing his arms.

"After all, strength lays in number" pipped Goyle nodding to his comrades in arms.

Harry felt a wave of gratitude to his friends and accepted their offer, a rare smile adorning his lips.

The moment Harry and his slytherin shadows (known to others as Draco, Vincent and Gregory) had entered the Great Hall that evening, the Halloween decorations put anything else on a second plan in their minds.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in dark clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter.

The feast appeared suddenly on golden plates used for such celebrations, as it had on the start of term banquet.

Harry was just helping himself to a slice of pie when Professor Quirrell came running into the hall, his turban askew, sheer terror on his face. He stumbled till he reached the staff's table, where he gasped:

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons!"

He then fell backwards on the floor, in a dead faint.

All hell unleashed at that moment.

It took a mass SILENCIO from the Headmaster to reestablish the order.

"Perfects", he rumbled "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

He the left the hall, followed by most of the teachers.

The other houses left, one by one, Perfect in front and Perfect in tow. Only the Slytherin remained.

"Marcus, we cannot leave the hall" stated Harry, a frown on his face.

"And why not, Harry?" Pansy Parkinson asked.

"Because it will be suicide. The troll is in the dungeons, Miss Parkinson, and our common room is also there." hissed Harry, annoyed that no one realized the fact.

"The old man is crazier than we thought" muttered Marcus Flint. "He either wants to finish our house off, or he's finally lost his marbles.

"And that is the revered leader of the Light, vanisher of Lord Grindelwald" smirked knowingly Harry. "We will wait for Professor Snape to come back. Marcus, Astoria, please seal and hide the doors from non human eyes" commended Harry without a second thought.

The Prefects performed the required spells after verifying that indeed, all slytherins were present.

Not long after, the doors opened with a bang and a livid Snape entered the Hall. Seeing all his children safe and sound, he breathed in relief and thanked the Gods in Heaven and Earth that they ignored the orders that would have sent them to their early grave.

"Perfects, take the students to the common room, the troll has been dealt with" he whispered and then turned, robes billowing in the air.

That night, the rumor had it that three Gryffindors went in search of the troll. They overestimated their abilities in search of "eternal glory" and were presently residing in the school's Infirmary. The troll disagreed with their glory idea, demonstrating that a club was a most potent weapon against a bushy know-it-all, a redheaded weasel and a round faced boy.

The Slytherins rejoiced.

A/N: read and review... Constructive critics are highly appreciated.


	7. Allegiance

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own them, though I wish I would.**

**7. Allegiance**

In the middle of the North Sea, a small rocky island, hidden from Muggle view, hosted the Azkaban wizarding prison.

If said location was to be approached, one would immediately observe the quietness and darkness that seemed to swallow the whole place. Not even the waves did not manage to reach it's shores, freezing on their way to the hollow land. There were no birds, no plants, no sounds except for the quiet friction of cloth and rocks. The isle alone sent chills to even the bravest wizard of them all.

On the southern plateau of the time frozen island one could see wooden crosses, rotting away in a putrid cemetery. The place was decaying and decomposing as steady and fast as the bodies buried six feet under. It was a horrifying image, a vision that seemed to develop from nightmares, a Purgatory on Earth for eternally damned souls.

To the north rose the fortress of Azkaban, it's walls high into the sky resembling thin wrinkled arms raised for absolution towards a higher power. From the first glance, the forsaken place screamed of terrors and nightmares, of tragedies and dramas unseen and unheard by human eyes or ears. This was not a place for absolution, this was not a place for forgiveness, this was not a center of rehabilitation.

Azkaban was a cell of terror, a nest of evil. Oh, the prisoners were not physically tortured, nor were they starved or killed... That would have been to merciful, indeed. No, the convicts had to relieve their worst memories, their hidden fears over and over again. It was no wonder that most of them went mad after a few days spent in the damned place. This reign of terror was held together by soulless creatures, the foulest beings on Earth, called Dementors.

Lucius Malfoy shivered while reaching the Apparition point, near the Azkaban Island's cemetery. Each and every time he got on the God forsaken Isle he wished he were anywhere else except near the soul-sucking fiends. And he was after all Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord's trusted right hand, a man who did terrible things, terrible but great, and that said something.

Gathering his cloth nearer his body, in an useless attempt to get more warmth, he headed north, through the prison's gates. He stopped in front of the sentinel and taking out from his sleeves a neatly folded parchment, he informed the creature that he had the Ministry's approval to visit one of the convicts.

He then gathered all his will and used the walls he built with Occlumency, to somehow lessen the effects of the Dementor proximity.

Walking through what seemed to be endless corridors, the Malfoy Scion finally reached the cell he seek and touching the door with his right hand he murmured the right incantation that allowed him to enter the prisoner's cell.

He found him in one of the rooms corner, dressed in rags that once had been black silky robes, eyes wide with madness, a crazed grimace on his lips.

'Oh, how the mighty have fallen' was his first thought.

"Ickle, dickle, mickle Lucius has come out to play" the mad man snickered, voice hoarse from not being used in years.

Lucius could not stop the smile forming on his lips. The man was no more mad than he was 15 years ago, while attending the same wizarding school.

"Stop it Black. You are no more mad than I am at the moment, and since I took the trouble to come into this dump and bear this horrific stench you seem to give out, the least you could to is to carry a civil conversation" Lucius sneered, in his Malfoys are superior tone.

"What do you want Malfoy?" the convict spat, his voice resembling the barking of an old haggard dog.

"That is for you to find out and for me to reveal" the blond replied. "Tell me Black, did you really betrayed your friends? Were you the one to reveal the Potters to the Dark Lord?" Lucius inquired, raising one of his finely polished blond eyebrows.

"Why I never, you bastard!" Sirius Black howled.

'Exactly as I thought' Malfoy mused, his smile widening at the enraged reaction he obtained from Black. 'The man is innocent and while I do not usually condone in helping a blood traitor, sometimes the end justifies the means'

"Sirius Black, have you heard of your godson lately?" Malfoy inquired yet again, glad that he was able to taunt and get a rise from his once Gryffindor nemesis.

"Harrrrry! What have you done to him, you Deatheater fuck!"

"Ntz ntz ntz... Such a foul language from the Lord of the House of Black. Please do watch your language Black, after all, we are family" Lucius interrupted, fingering his alabaster wand.

"And to put your mind at ease, I have done nothing to the Boy. Your side has done enough harm"

"Lies! Lies Malfoy, lies and manipulation, that's what you are good for"

"Don't you dare insult me Black, I did what I had to do. Your precious Dumbledore put the boy in the care of those Muggles. He let them abuse him, treat him as a filthy house elf, denying him his legacy and any knowledge concerning his world, our world. All of that for the greater good. Tell me Black, would you raise your nephew in a cupboard, starve him almost to death, abuse him verbally and denying him any affection in order to stomp the magic out of him? Would you do that to a pureblood, all for the good of the wizzarding world?"

"Noooo. Harrrry" he howled. He did not, could not believe what he was hearing. His eyes widened, his breath hitched and at that moment Sirius Black felt his world and beliefs shatter with each word uttered by his visitor.

"Now, now, Lord Black, try not to render me deaf during this encounter" Lucius continued, "I do not look forward to visit St. Mungus anytime in the foreseeable future"

"Let's get to the point of my visit. Knowing what you know, Black, tell me, where does your allegiance lie? Will you remain loyal to the old manipulator or will you pledge your allegiance to your godson, whatever that might entrails?" he inquired in a deadly serious tone

"The bastard may rot in hell from all I care, Malfoy. Harry is all I have left..." Sirius growled, his eyes softening at the mention of his godson.

"That's all I needed to hear Black", the blond said in a soft tone, surprising the other man.

"What would you say if I promise you that by the New Year you will be a free man, Lord Black?"

"What do you have in mind, Lucius?" he asked, a smile forming on his lips for the first time in so many years.

One week after this memorable encounter, Sirius Black left his cell in Purgatory to grace a more comfortable one from the Ministry.

A day later, Rita Skeeter turned the wizarding world upside down by writing the article - "Sirius Black, condemned without trail: Innocent or Guilty?" - that will bring her The Golden Quill by the end of the year.

The wheels were set in motion once again.

**A/N: shorter than usual, but I felt that this encounter deserved a chapter of it's own. **

**The conversation between Sirius and Lucius happens before the Halloween night.**

**I started to work again three days ago, but I will update once a week. Please bear with me :D**

**As always, constructive criticism is highly appreciated.**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing.**


	8. Meeting the Dark Lord

Disclaimer:

Merlin's balls! I do not own Harry Potter & co, as much as I complain about it...

* * *

><p>8. Meeting the Dark Lord<p>

The morning after the Samhain party, Harry awoke with a slight headache.

A smile graced his lips as he remembered last night's festivities. Not only had the foolish Gryffindors made a fool out of themselves but, the old ways were re-celebrated last night by the purebloods gracing the Slytherin House.

The Samhain party was a success.

The dungeons had been decorated in the Old Ways, simple yet very subtle. The Stonehenge circle had been transfigured with the help of their own Potion Master, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the original sacrificial altar. Rich green grass had briefly graced the hard stone floors, old and twisted oak trees rose instead of the cold stoned dungeon walls. Overall the effect had been mesmerizing.

The Slytherins wore long dark robes, billowing besides them like wings of angels fallen into the Abyss forsaken due to their arrogance. Their faces hooded and their feet bare, reminding them of the Old Vow made between humans and Caolainn, the mother of them all.

It was a Promise forgotten by Muggles and Wizards alike, remembered only by those who practiced the Ancient Magic and respected the Old Laws.

This specific Day, because it was indeed a very Holly one, was meant to reunite wizards with nature, to celebrate death and rebirth, to offer a sacrifice to atone for past mistakes and purify their souls.

It was a path of regeneration meant to strengthen their magic and to remember that Death was only the beginning.

The Initiates into this solemn ceremony had to pledge their life to the Promise and by doing so to sacrifice what they hold more dear in the world. The sacrifice, if done properly, was to strenghten their abilities and to rarely bless a chosen one with a gift that would help him reach his full potential once he was deemed worthy. But, as Harry knew, this rarely happened. He knew from Tom's memories that up until now, Caolainn has blessed only three persons with this special gift, during their first sacrifice, Morgan Le Fey, Salazar Slytherin and Tom Marvolo Riddle himself.

One by one, the first year Slytherins approached the altar and layd a golden piece of paper on it, containing the promise to uphold the old ways and the sacrifice. As soon the item touched the stone, the Initiate knelled, forehead rested to the rich soil and received the binding bestowed.

All too soon it was Harry's turn, and with a grace deemed worthy of a pureblood Lord, he approached the Circle of The Old. Kneeling, he placed his Promise on the altar and touching the earth he felt a fleeting presence touching his mind and soul.

"You have been here before, young one, and yet you haven't" a voice as old as time itself whispered.

"I have, Mother" Harry replied in a hushed voice.

"So young, and yet so knowledgeable of our ways... And yet you choose to sacrifice not what you hold more dear, but what you are... Why?" the voice caressed his soul.

"Because it's my destiny, Mother"

"I see... I accept your offering, young one, and you may have my blessing as well"

Before the last word was uttered, Harry felt his magic grow and explode in small silvery lines, and the it shifted until it gathered again in a tight emerald knot.

"I have your humanity, young Lord of the House of Serpents, use your gift wisely" and with a final caress, the presence was gone as if it has never been there.

Harry rose, and turned, soul, mind and heart filled with unanswered questions.

With the last sacrifice done, the Slytherins lit a huge bonfire near the far end trees, shared a glass of red wine, ate fruits of the Earth and shared stories of powers and abilities long forgotten.

The headache Harry endured that morning was caused not by the copious amounts of wine they managed to absorb the previous night but by is magic shifting.

As any other morning Harry reached for his glasses and put them on, only to realize that his headache intensified and that the world was a very blurry place... Unless...

With a smirk, he took his glasses off and, as he suspected, his eyes took in for the very first time, without the need of a two round glass pieces brought together by a small wire, the world. And what a sight it was...

Draco's head was dangling one inch from the stony wall, a drop of drool making it's way from the purebloode's mouth, down on his chin and neck.

Harry snickered while thinking of the difference between the level headed blond Slytherin, image of the standard pureblood Heir, and Draco's appearance after the unhinged party.

Making his way out of the Common Room, which was unsurprisingly restored to it's initial appearance, Harry walked through the castle, climbing up the stairs to the fourth level.

He stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, which had two wands facing each other, one shooting sparks, the other a forming a shield. He grabbed the handle and knocked three times.

Ssssssss

Professor Quirinus Quirell had a most miserable long Halloween night.

He did not enjoy having all his plans thwarted but that's what had happened and it was all the old fool's fault.

He had carefully planned to let the troll loose in the dungeons, in order to redirect the attention from the third floor corridor and to find out how to surpass Dumbledore's protections.

Unfortunately, the damned stupid brute that was consensually called a Troll, managed to reach the second floor girl's bathroom where he was confronted, after wreaking chaos to said room, by the three bumbling glory seeking idiots from the Lion's Lair.

Quirinus Quirell scowled, thinking of how he had barely managed to reach the cage of the three headed nightmare when he was conveniently interrupted by Hagrid. The giant had been sent to check on the blasted mutt, under the pretext to feed "the poor dear", and consequently had dragged along a large bucket of raw meat and bones.

Luckily, the almost retarded Gatekeeper was fooled by his story of being intrigued by such a "fine" specimen of Cereberus and wanting to learn more about the specie.

The half blooded Giant had the gal to start butchering the English language, in his rush to explain all about Fluffy.

'Fluffy' Quirinus uttered, waving his hands into the air. 'Fluffy' he uttered again, starting to laugh hysterically.

He was interrupted by his Wizarding Proximity Ward, humming with the approach of almost silent steps on the corridor.

And then, there were three knocks on his door.

Professor Quirell opened the door, his hazel eyes meeting a pair of Avada Kedavra green ones.

"Mis-s-ter Pot-tter" he nodded, reverting to his babbling Professor persona.

Harry Potter entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts chambers and closed the door with a wave of his wand and a silent incantation.

"You can stop with you ruse right now, Professor"

"I dddo nott knowww whatt you m-mm-mmean" Quirell stubbornly continued.

"If my mind is not playing tricks on me, Professor, and I assure you it does not, you were much more eloquent last night in the Great Hall" Harry stated, emerald eyes unyielding, pinning the older man down.

"Y-you mmmust b-be immaginning t-t-things" Quirell stuttered again, surprise showing on his face at the young student's words.

"I might be the only one that has taken notice of it, Professor, but trust me, your stutter was gone yesterday. Moreover, may I be so bold to remind you that when humans faint their knees buckle and they do not just fall backwards?" the young Slytherin stubbornly continued.

"I see.."

"Furthermore, how come a wizard that is specialized in trolls is reduced to a quivering frightened bastard as soon as one enters the dungeons?"

"I am not a fool, Potter" Quirell spat, realizing a moment later that he gave himself away.

"Certainly you are not, Professor, or should I call you Tom? Or at least what's left of him" Harry boldly continued.

Quirell's eyes flickered red.

"Oh, now let's not get angry, Voldemort. It's not wise to let your magic go wild behind the enemy's line, after all"

"How did you..."

"Know? Find out? That's my secret for the moment, but do not worry, your identity, or better said possession, is safe with me."

"I must say I am surprised and intrigued about you, Harry Potter." Quirell continued, starting to pace.

Harry took a seat and watched Quirinus gather his thoughts while trying to express them.

"I confess, you are not what I was expecting. How come a heir of a pureblood Light family gets sorted into Slytherin, forsaking a long tradition of Gryffindor? I have been observing you from the very beginning. You stay mostly quite, invisible, hidden from the spotlight, you excel in all subjects taught in this school, you do not complain about being unfairly treated by those idiots called Professors. I wonder..." Quirell dragged along, lost in his whispered musings.

"I wonder" he continued, "if you know what lays hidden in this school at the moment, Harry Potter... Have you ever wandered in the third floor corridor?"

"The forbidden one? Mention by the Old Coot at the Welcoming Feast?" Harry inquired.

Quirell raised his well trimmed eyebrows in surprise hearing Dumbledore's supposed weapon of light degrading it's so called leader.

"It seems that there's more to you than meets the eyes, Mr Potter. And yessss, that's the one... Do you know, young serpent that Hogwarts hosts The Philosopher Stone?"

Harry's eyes sparkled for an instant, while his mind cataloged the multiple uses of such a valuable artifact.

"Of course, the Stone is highly protected by enchantments and spells, created directly under Dumbledore's instructions, if not by the man himself. I have tried several times to pass through the trap door, but unfortunately it's guard is a little ... unsettling. Unfortunately, neither myself, nor Quirinus gave attention to the Care of Magical Creatures class while attending, so would you know by any chance a way to pass a three headed dog?"

"A Cereberus?" Harry asked, excitement present in his tone. "I have read about those while in Primary School! It was a mith from Ancient Greek and I believe that you need music to calm him or get him to sleep. At least that's how Orpheus got past it..."

"Music?" Quirell barked astounded.

"Yes, a harp or lira should be helpful..."

"Music? Harp?" Quirell repeated dumbfounded. "This is so fucking precious!" he shouted, maniacal laughter filled the room, dropping the temperature a few degrees.

Harry stood in his seat, apparently not affected by the display of sheer insanity coming from a Voldemort possessed Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. He just rose an inquisitive eyebrow, movement copied to perfection from Tom's memories.

"It just seems fitting that the three headed pain in the ass, called Fluffy by that pea brained half giant, is to be put to sleep by music. This is classic!" Quirell spat between barks of uncontrolled laughter.

Harry smirked.

"Are you sure this is not a trap? It is highly unlikely that Dumbledore hid the true Stone in the school, no matter the protections used to defend it. Can't it be a fake? A decoy?" Harry inquired after his Professor managed to get a hold of himself and stopped laughing.

"Hmmmm... You make a valid point, child. But with Dumbledore, you never know what to expect from him... Anyhow, I will look into it. Meanwhile, Harry Potter, would you like to join me in this venture? It could prove to be very beneficial for both of us, if the stone is indeed sheltered inside this walls."

Harry's eyes flashed red for a few seconds, before he agreed to join the man and biding goodbye he rose and left the room, heading for the Slytherin Common Romm. It was almost time for his dorm mates to wake up and he wanted to avoid any questions or chiding coming from his friends for wandering the halls alone, unescorted.

'Interessssting' the Dark Lord whispered to his host, 'keep an eye on the boy Quirinusssssss, it apearssssss that the child issss promisssssing, very promissssing indeed'.

A/N:

Sorry for the delay, I had a row of awful days at work and I did not have the time to write...

I hope that this chapter will not disappoint as it is the first real private encounter between Voldemort and Harry. I am not fully satisfied with the outcome but it will have to do for now...

For this chapter I had to study the Celtic Gods. Good gracious, who knew there were so many of them. Looking for the right one gave me headaches, but I hope I chose well.

Please take note that I plan on rewriting all seven years at Hogwarts so Harry's abilities and powers will be displayed gradually.

Thank you for reading and reviewing.


	9. The Mirror of Erised

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 9

The Mirror of Erised

Christmas was coming. One morning mid December, Hogwarts found itself covered in several feet of snow.

The lake froze solid, forcing the Giant magical squid that lived into it's depths to go into hibernation. Moreover, the Weasley chaos wreaking twin team was punished for

bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Filtch around, bouncing on the top of his greasy hair.

Every soul inhabiting the old fortress could barely hold the excitement as the holiday approached. Every soul except a first year Slytherin with green eyes.

If one would observe the young man carefully, one would realize that something was slightly different about him.

It was not that he spent more time in the library studying than ever before, nor that he was rarely seen without his self appointed bodyguards. No, Harry Potter did

not display the slightest emotion that was generally associated to the upcoming cheerful holiday.

Any experienced Professor that spent all his life amongst his young charges should have realized that something was really wrong with the young man in question.

After all, one of the main sign in recognizing the presence of child abuse and neglect is a passive, withdrawn or overly compliant behavior. Nevertheless, due to the

prejudices against a certain House in this special school of 'the gifted' not one teacher except perhaps the Slytherin Head of House, took note of the fact that The Boy

Who Lived Only To Become a Snake displayed such symptoms. Consequently, at one given time in the future, all these witches and wizards, the ones that will

eventually survive a third wizarding British War, will come to wander what if. What if they would have noticed these facts and intervened in time y giving a helping

hand to said neglected child that would eventually change the course of magical history. But this is not the time for such toughs, as clearly the events have not yet

unfolded.

Harry walked through Hogwarts drafty corridors to Professor's Snape classes, in the dungeons. The drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the

windows of the classroom.

The students shivered as their breath rose in a mist before them and formed itself into small icy particles before falling on the floor.

"I do feel sorry" drawled Draco Malfoy "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're family cannot afford to have them home."

He was looking over at Ronald Weasley as he spoke. Harry smirked. The Gryffindor, having just been released from the hospital wing glared and was on the verge of

grabbing his wand in order to retaliate when out of nowhere, Professor Snape appeared behind the read headed first year.

"Weasley, twenty points from Gryffindor for cursing a fellow student in – my – class!" spat the Potions Professor, rage evident on his face.

Ronald Weasley opened his mouth to protest when a small hand covered it.

"Ignore him Ron, we'll only loose more points today if you give him a reason to do so" whispered the resident know-it-all.

"10 points for being out of your desk Miss Granger!"

"Now as much as I enjoy teaching your dunderheads of one of the finest arts out there, if I hear another word coming out of you two, I will give you a T for today's

assignment and send you on your "merry" way!" Snape continued, icy black eyes fixed on the two miscreants.

Granger's eyes grew big and went blurry, hearing the letter T pronounced by the greasy bat-like professor. She immediately turned towards her cauldron, trying to

salvage her Blood Replenishing Potion.

Ron Weasley glared again at the two smirking Slytherins.

It was true that Ronald Bilius Weasley wasn't going back to The Burrow this Christmas. His family was leaving for Romania, to visit his older brother who worked at a

dragon reserve there. Unfortunately, the cost of an international portkey trip was high, and due to his family precarious financial status, he and his brothers that were

still in school had to sign up for spending the holidays in Hogwarts.

When they left the dungeons and reached the staircase that took them to the Great Hall for lunch, they found it blocked by a colossal Christmas tree. Two muddy

boots made them realize that the Gamekeeper was actually pushing the tree up the stairs.

"Would you mind... Ouch! Harrrrry, why did you stomp my feet! I was just going... Ouch!"

Harry glared at Draco, running his hands through his perfectly straight hair.

"Troubles in Paradise, deatheaters?" came a furious spat from behind, belonging to none other than a very purple Ron Weasley, passing them, and roughly pushing

past the tree, scattering needles all over the stairs.

"Oh why don't you... Ouch! Harry..."

Draco seemed to notice the very pointed looks that Harry was giving him and immediately closed his mouth, eyes inquisitive but resigned. He knew that the black

haired boy had his reasons to stop him, one way or the other.

"Why no, Weasley... No troubles at all." Harry coldly drawled, while turning his attention to the tree.

"Hey, Hagrid, need any help with that?" he continued.

"Erm... Nah, it's allright 'Arry. Heavy lil' bugger tough." the half giant bellowed. "'Suppose to be in the Great Hall, last of the lot I tell ya. "

They followed the half giant up the stairs, to the Great Hall, where the other Professors were helping with the decorations.

Mistletoe and silver tinsel hung all around the walls, with a touch of holly in all the right places. All around the decorated walls, one could see the Christmas trees, tiny

magical candles hidden beneath their branches.

The Hall looked marvelous, even Harry had to admit it, if only for the sake of keeping up appearances.

Lunch was followed by double Herbology with the Ravenclaws, and double History with the Puffs. During the latter, Harry scolded his blond companion, reminding him

to keep a semblance of civility around Dumbledore's half breed. Draco dutifully complied.

Midnight drew near and found a very lonely and extremely bored Harry Potter. All other slytherins were already asleep, but after twisting and twirling for an hour in his

bed, Harry had enough. Since his discussion with Voldemort, Harry's train of toughs always returned to the Philosopher's stone. After all, having such an artifact,

desired by all but owned by one and possibly in the possession of another... Possibly hidden beneath the school... Well that was something worth musing over.

But was it a fact that Dumbledore actually brought the Stone at Hogwarts? And why? Was the stone in danger at Flamel's house? No doubt it was better protected in

the old alchemist's house, after all, neither Grindewald nor Voldemort had managed to acquire it in the first wizarding wars.

No, it was a test, and Harry saw right through it. Someway or somehow the Headmaster suspected that Quirell was after the stone. If Dumbledore knew about

Quirell's "house guest" Harry did not know. But the Headmaster was testing him. Why else would he mention the forbidden corridor in the welcoming speech, full

aware of the fact that it would instantly spark the curiosity of Hogwart's young inhabitants? Dumbledore was betting on Harry's supposed Gryffindor traits that he

should have inherited from his own parents. Bravery, chivalry, trustworthiness, devotion. But Harry never had those, had he? And if these suppositions were correct, if

Dumbledore was testing him, and Harry was never wrong then the only reasonable, valid conclusion was that the Stone was indeed in the school.

Harry's eyes brightened, his lips turned upwards, an insane laughter escaping his thin lips.

He slowly rose from his seat, sinister shadows playing on his face due to the slowing dieing fire from the Common Room's antique fireplace. He stepped out of

Slytherin's guarding portrait that was conveniently empty and climbed the stairs towards the third floor corridor. He needed to see with his own eyes Fluffy, the

Cerbereus.

Reaching the third floor, he opened with a silent "Alohamora" the door guarding the corridor and found himself in front of two very solid oak doors. He repeated the

procedure on the door heading to the right while mentally preparing himself to face the dog that was supposed to guard the gates of Hell.

It was seconds before he noticed that the room had no living beast inside.

Harry sneered at empty classroom, before his eyes halted on a ceiling high golden mirror, standing on two clawed feet.

"Erised" Harry reverently whispered, recognition flashing into his eyes.

"I show not your face but your hearts desire" he continued, while confidently stepping in front of it.

His heart pounded furiously and he had to clap his hand to his mouth in order to stop his screaming.

There, in the mirror stood Harry. But he was not alone. A boy, no a Man, stood besides him. The man had black hair that was slightly curled, high cheekbones, a

straight aristocratic nose, glowing red eyes framed by thick black lashes. His hand was rested on Harry's shoulder, a smile gracing his thin pink lips.

"Tom" Harry's heartbroken whisper echoed in the hollow dusty classroom.

"Tom" he repeated, while reaching with his fingertips for the image presented by the mirror.

His movement, though slow and hesitant, caused Harry to shift his position, making the black-haired man disappear as if it never was there.

Harry's chest constricted. A lonely tear escaped his eyes, making it's way down, on his pale cheeks, and then hitting the floor in front of the beautifully decorated

mirror.

"I will bring you back, Tom. Somehow, I will find a way, I promise..." he continued, resting his forehead on the mirror's cold smooth surface.

He stood motionless like that for what seemed to be an eternity and then steeling his will, he softly removed himself from the uncomfortable position.

He looked again with longing to his heart's greatest desire, memorizing and ingraining it deep into his soul, before leaving the classroom and heading for his dormitory.

The blasted dog would have to wait because Harry knew that if he remained a moment longer in the proximity of the cursed mirror he would never find the will to

leave. And to leave he had to, after all, he had a promise to fulfill.

A/N: This chapter was hard to write and that's why it took me so long to update it. I only hope it does not disappoint you all, dear readers.

Thank you for your support and reviews, I do appreciate it.

As always constructive criticism is more than welcomed!

Yours truly, Erhea


	10. To the  Dumbledoriada!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Damn!

To the Dumbledoriada!

Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster, Chief Mungup, prided himself to be a very patient man. After all, he did not conquer a Dark Lord by loosing his coolness and awesomeness in hardship and need.

Of course that the above mentioned character enjoyed wearing bright colored robes, from baby pink to chicken yellow, with mismatched pointy hats that always ended in a fluffy puff. He disposed of an endless supply of lemon drops, surmounted only by an even more limitless resource of cheerfulness. He hummed in the halls, always having a certain spring in his steps, his long white beard doing a merry dance, all by her own.

Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was en enigma among the students attending the school he ruled.

According to the Gryffindors, he was a benevolent grandfather, always there to give advice and care for you. No matter that the advices he always gave were... hmmm... let's just say odd and out of topic. He was fierce and brave, after all he defeated the Dark Lord Grindewald, the personification of Light. He was a leader, a partner in crime, that managed to understand their needs at all times.

For a Ravenclaw, the Headmaster was a strange sort of human puzzle. Eccentric and unpredictable, always keeping all of them on guard, he disrupted all patterns of behaviorism, confusing all ravens alike. Consequently, the house of Rowena tried and tried to decipher the puzzle, to find a logic in the pattern, to understand the brilliance of the man, if there ever was one. Unfortunately for the ravens, he was the one exception, the one situation, the one riddle the books held no answer to.

For the Badgers, Albus Dumbledore was the awesome Headmaster and for this alone, he had their loyalty. The House of Helga Hufflepuff was a House meant to follow and follow it did, until the very end.

Now, the most sane perception of the Headmaster was held by the House of Snakes. Amongst them, the seemingly inoffensive grandfather with a sunny disposition, was seen as very dangerous man. The snakes saw behind his twinkling blue eyes and excruciatingly mismatched robes, a man that held no scruples, no kindness, and no benevolence for those who were different, for those who were snakes. Albus Dumbledore was dangerous man to be avoided at all costs.

In this specific moment in time, the focal point of our musing was once more pacing the floor of his office. Up and down, up and down, his beard fluttered, occasionally getting in his mouth and preventing him from talking to himself. He then grabbed it, and with a frustrated huff, he thrown it over his shoulder, ignoring the fact that it did never stay that way.

„I did it all by the books" he muttered, while twisting and twisting his canary yellow hat.

„I left him all alone, in that God forsaken Muggle neighborhood with his Muggle relatives that hated Magic! It was supposed to work!" he kept uttering and uttering, again and again.

„He was treated with contempt, he was isolated, he was broken day and night, for Merlin's sake!" he cried, while shaking his fists furiously in the air.

„And what did I get? A snake?" he continued, his voice twisted with contempt.

„Oh Circe's tits! I am getting old..."

„I did warn you Dumbledore, the night you left him with that filth!" and old man from an even older portrait spat.

„Buzz off, old piece of parchment" Dumbledore huffed, shoving his once again jumping beard into his robes.

„You've gone barmy with old age, Headmaster, you rip what you saw" Phineas Nigellus spat from his painting, before disappearing without another sound.

„I am not a fool" he continued, „but the similarities are there... Both orphans, both unloved, both Slytherins... The mirror was not the key, after all he did not find it. Perhaps moving it into the third floor was not one of my brightest ideas, but mentioning said corridor at the feast should have risen some curiosity, right?" he mumbled to himself.

„Then... Bloody snakes! Not knowing what they're up to. A Gryffindor Harry Potter I can handle. A Slytherin one... Bloody fucking snakes. The Fates definitely hate me!" he cried, finally dropping himself into his golden wicked throne -errrr seat.

„Nevertheless, blood is thicker than water, he will come around. He will see the light. He will! By Gods, he will, one way or another, even if it's the last thing I do!" he sputtered, dropping his fist one his golden Table of Doom - errr office desk.

Ceasing his internal musings, that were not so internal after all, the Headmaster popped a lemon drop into his mouth again and started to hum Hogwarth's Hymn on a cheerful tune. He nodded once more, relaxing into his seat, ignoring the missing painting that ran from the rant of the coot.

The mirror was hidden once more, it's secret room hidden from prying eyes. Opportunities? From abundance, as long as the school and it's Headmaster were there.

Meanwhile, in another secret room, on the highest tower, a different council took place.

Ghosts and portraits alike, joined by a slightly crazy poltergeist were crowded in a silvery room with green hues.

On it's middle, on a high platform, ornated with silvery snakes intertwined, stood a 6 feet portrait featuring a tall and handsome man, petting the scales of a dormant huge snake.

„The man has lost his mind, Your Highness!" spat the portrait of Phineas Nigellus.

His statement was met with a murmur of agreement from the magically painted crowd.

„He is very suspicious of young Potter's sorting. He tried to over-rule it, offending the old laws and magic that aided in creating Gideon, The Sorting Hat!"

„He strolls through the halls like a mad rabbit bunny, eating those THINGS" Elisabeta Bathory continued, in her steady controlled tone

„While ranting and raving in the solitude of his office" continued the painting of Malicious Throme.

„He placed the boy with Muggles! Magic hating Muggles, Salazar!" one yelled.

„They tried to beat the magic out of him, My Lord!" screeched another, on a very outrageous tone.

„He is unfit to rule this school!"

„When was he ever worthy?" snorted another.

„The worthiness is not in discussion as it never was" intervened the unearthly voice of Helena Ravenclaw. „It's all about balance. Good, evil, dark, light, yin, yang. But the lines have been breached, the concepts have blended. Light will fall to madness while dark will arise and purge this world. The Headmaster has his role as we have ours." she finished with a bow.

„The Fates have spoken, Caolainn has given her blessing to the House of Serpents on the Hallows Eve Night. The will of the Mother will be done, as there is no way to withstand it." the Bloody Baron continued, empty eyes meeting vivid green ones.

These statements were met with deafening silence.

Salazar Slytherin rose from his unorthodox coiled seat, his emerald green eyes taking in the unusual self invited guests of his sanctuary.

„I have removed all versions of myself from all paintings that reside in this castle. The temptation to intervene was far to great for me, as I would have loved to blast the old fool into oblivion" he begun, his voice steady, controlled, laced with power.

„Our friends spoke the truth. Caolainn has blessed my Heirs, my line, and through them the House of Slytherin, changing the balance of power. Hogwarts no longer recognizes Albus Dumbledore as her Headmaster, but still, she cannot remove him from his Seat as long as the Ministry does not revoke his appointment or dismiss him. Hogwarts has no master but she has a Champion, a Lord, and her choice is none other than Harry Potter."

Whispers arose from those who attended the gathering, heads nodding, anticipation and excitement, embraced with the soft humming of agreement that came from the walls, from the floors, from the air itself.

„Thus, I ask you, my friends and allies, to support young Harry Potter in his Rise to Power. Not for me, but for what is right, for the Old Ways to become New once More!" Salazar continued, his voice carrying through the room, across the walls, into the very essence of Hogwarts herself.

„For the Dumbledoriada!" yelled Peeves. „Ohhhh, dung bombs – check, water balloons-check, nasty potion too be used on sweetly yellowy sweets-check, dragon manure-check, packs of Cornish Pixies- I have to find a way to get my none existent hands on some way to get them... Dumbledore will definitely not know what hit him!" he insanely cackled with glee to himself, while going round and round, higher and higher, laughing and laughing, again and again.

„Now we'll never manage to educate him", sighed the Fat Friar, the gleam from his eyes denying his softly spoken words.

„To the Dumbledoriada, indeed" smirked the young Salazar Slytherin while resuming his activity, green eyes filled with mischief.

A.N. I am so very sorry for the delay but life got in the way of my writing... Hmmm that rimes :D

Got a promotion to a manager position, had to open two call centers and I did not find the time to write anymore... But, I will get my groove back and finish the stories I have in my twisted mind :)

Any constructive criticism is highly appreciated one more. Thank you for your patience.

Next update: Sunday, 4th September


	11. Malfoy Manor

Disclaimer: I don not own Harry Potter as much as I'd wish to.

Malfoy Manor

The first day of the winter holiday, Hogwart's halls were full of students.

At first, an independent observer could nod and say that it's not an uncommon situation for a wizarding boarding school, full of children from the age of eleven to the one of eighteen. Nevertheless, if one observed more carefully, one could undoubtedly see that these unlikely students were not rushing to get to their classes on time, but walking leisurely without their bags full of heavy manuals, quills and ink bottles. The library was empty, the classrooms deserted. Only the common rooms suddenly seemed too small for the amount of students occupying them.

Relieved of having finished their first semester and completed the exams, the young witches and wizards in training were almost ready to travel back to London. Their trunks were stacked one above the other in the Great Hall, their pets fed and caged, their beds made. All that remained was to bid farewell to the Castle and to their friends and take the carriages that led them to Hogsmeade village, and then the train station, were the Express was patiently waiting for them.

As Harry left the castle, along with his three faithful slytherin friends, his eyes landed on the simple but effective carriages that were supposed to take them to the station. His eyes glowed with mischief and a strange smile appeared on his thin lips, as he slowly approached the invisible beings that were said to pull the coach.

Reaching his destination, he inclined his head to what others should believe to be thin air and said in a calm, controlled voice:

„I see thee, stallion of shadows and foreteller of death, may your food be always raw and fresh".

A pair of ghostly empty eyes turned to him, and a rough and unused voice replied, too low for human years:

„And I see and greet thee, son of man and serpents"

As Harry's smile grew bigger and bigger, Draco, Vincent and Gregory shivered and took a few steps back, giving their friend privacy to communicate to... well... something they could not grasp nor see. They learned almost from the beginning of the year not to cross the young wizard. If the information was meant for their years, they would eventually receive it. Moreover, the smile on Harry's face seemed so unnatural, so sinister, that red lights of alert were triggered and their self preservation instinct kicked them in full force, taking them as fast as possible in the comeliness of the carriage.

„Yes, I see thee, young one with memories of old. We felt Mother's blessing, all like us did, and we rejoice for the end of the enslavers draws near. May your journey be swift and short, for the destination, and not journey, matters for those like us. If you find yourself in trouble, you may call upon my help and I shall come" the voice continued, devoid of all emotion.

„And how should I call thee, Stallion of Death?" the wizard inquired.

„You shall call me Amoniteph, and I shall be were your heart desires".

With these final words, the two parted, human head bowed and eyes disappearing into nothingness.

Pleased with this development, Harry Potter finally got into the carriage and joined his three fellow slytherins.

All through the carriage and half through the train ride, Harry's smile never left his face.

The meeting with Amoniteph, son of the Carrier of the Scythe, even though not planned, was an unexpected success.

Harry knew that during the war with Grindewald, Albus Dumbledore used very potent light magic, borderline dark, to capture and enslave several mythical creatures, but finding out that one of them was the beloved therestal of none other than Death itself, was a stroke of luck. Releasing the creature from it's binding and returning it to it's caregiver would bring him the favor of the most unexpected ally, and this should warrant the success of his endeavor. Finding a way to do so, without raising the suspicions of one Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore... Well that's another issue all by itself.

All too soon the journey ended and Harry found himself waving goodbye to Gregory and Vincent and being dragged by an unusual hyper Draco Malfoy towards the platform.

Said blond Slytherin, started chatting at an abnormal speed, informing Harry that their house elves would take the luggage and whatever to the manor, and that his mother and father is waiting for them. Or at least that's what the black haired boy managed to grasp from the other boy's verbal vomit.

Rolling his eyes, Harry allowed himself to be dragged to the end of the platform, where Lucius and Narcissa awaited them in their pure blooded glory.

Seeing his son in one of his hyper sugar induced state, the Malfoy Head greeted his teeth and was about to start to berate his young heir of the inappropriate way he was acting, when he felt his wife's hand gently grasping his forearm.

At this gentle gesture, Lucius turned towards his wife with an inquisitive look, his eyes softening upon gazing on her pleading blue eyes.

„Let this pass, love" she murmured, her voice soft and loving. „He is still young and I want him to enjoy these innocent carefree years. The clouds are gathering and the storm draws near..." she continued, her voice breaking in the end.

Lucius hugged his unsettled wife, accepting her wish and giving the little comfort he could.

They were soon interrupted by their son and nephew, as they both came to consider Harry to be, and all sorrows forgotten, or concealed, they apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor.

Harry remembered all too well the majestic castle, with it's wide upper terrace, large enough to hold an even larger parterre, enclosed with pavilions and latticework. Built during the Renaissance by the first Malfoy who emigrated from France, Malfoy Manner combined the luxurious and lavish French decor with the classical and stylish Italian one, creating one of the most breathtaking building known to wizarding kind.

Feeling himself amongst acquaintances – friends was not a name Harry used in his thoughts, he dropped the act of an overwhelmed young boy, and with a natural unpracticed easiness, he entered the manor and went directly into the parlor, up the stairs, in the North Wind, and in the room where once the Dark Lord called his own.

His hands caressed the black furniture covered with dust, that decorated the room, the yellow pieces of parchment that carried Tom's seal and were once ivory white, the black falcon eagle quill – it's tip blunt from the passage of time.

He opened the closed door and with trembling hands, he took one of the robes that still hung inside and laid it on the emerald green sheets from the master bed that ruled the middle of the room. With gentle, almost yearning movements he took the collar of the robes, and surely, written inside, with neat silvery lines, were three letters. TMR.

Harry shook his head to clear his mid, and with a nod and a swift and graceful movement, rarely seen on one so young, he locked the door, embraced the robe and laid his head on the stiff pillow. The smile never left his face, as he succumbed to the world of dreams.

At first the Lucius watched the young boy's reactions with pride and eagerness. Seeing the awed look of the young child he felt the corners of his lips curling up into a smug smile. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath into his lungs and savoring the sense of fulfilling that he got each time he returned home with his beloved ones.

Then, Narcissa's hand once again drew him from his musings, and his eyes rested on the young boy once more.

His eyes widened in surprise, as Harry's face changed abruptly, his eyes flashing burgundy red. At that moment, time stopped for Lucius Malfoy, his eyes widened in horror as blood drained from his cheeks, leaving the deathly pale.

It was not the determination nor the easiness with which the boy climbed the stairs of the North Wing that caused such reaction. Nor was it the fact that said wing was unused since the day their Lord died, eleven years ago, that filled Lucius with fear and horror.

What shook the Lord of the Most Ancient and Pure House of Malfoy, and made him weak in the knees was that short, almost non existent moment in time when the child eyes changes from emerald green to burgundy red. He had seen before the same eyes, full of cruelty and malice. He had long lost his hope to see them again, the eyes of his master, but he had never expected to encounter them soo soon and on the face of his child's best friend.

'Yes, the clouds are gathering and the tempest draws near' he thought to himself.

'But this time we shall fight, strike and conquer' he continued, while following Harry with his gray eyes.

Thus, it was not with great surprise or difficulty that Lucius Malfoy relinquished the now not so not used North Wind, with all it's rooms, to his guest, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived to Bring Hope.

A.N. It seems that all my notes start with apologies **grin**

Unfortunately, I still do not have enough time to write at my disposal, things are a little bit strained at the office.

But I do fervently hope that things will start to look up and that I will have time to write my stories. I have so much to share with you **evil smile **

I apologize once more for any grammar or spelling mistakes but as I do not have a beta, I am forced to use a spell-checking tool.

Thank you again and again for reading and reviewing.

**Yours faithfully,**

**erhea**


	12. The Trial  part one

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, although I love daydreaming about it.

The trial (part one)

Morning... Can we really grasp the meaning of such a word? Can we truly appreciate what a new day can or even may bring to us? The dawns, messengers of beginnings, bringers of life, usually pass by us, unappreciated, ignored, forgotten...

Humans are creatures of habit.

They wake up each morning, yawning and thinking with wistfulness of their cozy warm beds they have to leave in order to go to work. The day begins by dragging one's feet to the bathroom for human moments, brushing one's teeth, and then continues with the sound of feet being dragged a little more alert to the kitchen. Water is then poured in a pot and then on the stove it goes where a still partially asleep human being is waiting for it to boil. Over the water, once boiled at one hundred degrees Celsius, to be more precise, the still mostly asleep creature drops three up to five spoons of coffee in the steaming water. Five minutes later and half a cup of coffee already in the system, the human being is almost, almost, ready to start the day.

So it's not really surprising that this sad creature – usually a muggle, or an insignificant wizard of low breed, mind you, is not able to truly, really appreciate the messengers of day. They cannot see nature coming alive, they cannot hear the hum of nature preparing itself to greet the sun. After all, wonders like these are not for the common, nor for the unworthy.

Harry Potter stood at his window, seeing, feeling and sensing, like any well bred pure blooded wizard, the dance of nature awakening from it's nightly slumber. He knew that, somewhere in the mansion, the Malfoys were doing the same, paying respect to life, to nature, to the Mother herself.

It was an old custom, now forgotten by almost all, due to the the new blood, the „mud blood" that entered their world each passing year.

'Muggleborns' Harry though with a sneer, eyes flashing hatred for a brief moment alone.

But today was not a day to dwell on such ideas and conceptions.

The misty day of 17th December was a day special in itself, that spoke of unfulfilled promises, of betrayals, and with finality of justice.

All over England, wizards and witches alike were preparing themselves to floo to the Leaky Cauldron in London, and from there to catch a seat in the Court of Justice, where all Wizengamot was gathered to judge the case of Sirius Black.

Mothers kissed their young daughters, unfit yet, for such a trip. Fathers hugged their young sons, too crude, too innocent to glimpse at the horrors of the last war. It did not matter that they might not get a seat nor that they could wait in the rain for hours until the verdict would be given. All that mattered was the fact that going to the trial was the must of the season. It was the making or the unmaking of a human being, it was a show to be hold and remembered for the years to come.

And so, through the mist and the slow rapping rain, wizards and witches gathered in the Diagon Alley.

Some of them managed to reserve a seat at the Cauldron and there, they awaited with patience, over butterbeer or firewhiskey for the event to unfold itself.

Others were crowded in the Ministry, on the halls, in the waiting rooms and even in some offices if they were lucky enough to work there.

At every corner, there were little black boxes, connected directly to the WWN, commenting on the situation at hand, and getting ready to broadcast the trial, live.

Only the first of them to arrive, were the lucky ones that managed to catch a seat in Courtroom Ten, located on the tenth level of the Ministry of Magic.

The circular room, resembling a roman amphitheater, had a very high ceiling and gave impression of a rabbit hole. A large one, it is true, but nevertheless, a rabbit hole.

In the very middle, one could see an iron seat that had, on it's arms, heavy chains of steel. If one looked close enough, one could see that the chains were, in some parts, stained with something darker, something that remembered of struggles, of trying to break free, of tortures unfit for human eyes. In front of said seat, on a very high platform, there were several seats, in which the Interrogators sat, behind a high, wooden balustrade.

All around this circle of impending doom, were rows upon rows, seven at number, going higher and higher, of seats for the crowds, for vultures ready to feast on the poor soul held captive below.

These seats, were full of fidgeting wizards, talking to themselves, whispering and gesturing somewhere to the first row, where a family of silver blond heads were joined by a mop of dark hair.

„That couldn't be..." a wizard commented.

„It is, but still, to bring a child in such a place...What were they thinking!" hissed another, an outrageous expression on his pale face.

„Oh, shut up Diggory, it will bode him well to see this. After all, it is his godfather on trial today" said Amelia Bones, a middle aged woman with a stern expression on her face.

The small group of people that caused this not so small commotion, was blissfully ignorant of the ruckus above.

Four pairs of eyes, three silvery gray and one emerald green, were avidly watching the Interrogators entering the courtroom

A wand was pointed to a neck and a soft „sonorus" spell was heard by those from the first row. And then the clear crystal like voice of the court clerk was heard by all those from above with a clear command:

„All rise! Court is now in session!"

One by one, wizards and witches alike rose from their seats, as the Interrogators climbed the platform ant took their seats.

With a nod, from the High Interrogator – a man with bushy eyebrows, keen yellowish eyes hidden behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles – a door opened on the left of the platform and a man in shackles entered, held at wand point by two men dressed in red robes.

The man, dressed in linen robes of low quality, unfit for a self-respecting wizard, looked gaunt and had elbow length, matted and tangled hair. It was a fact to all that the years spent in Azkaban took a high toll on the once pure blooded proud heir of the House of Black.

He was soon escorted into the iron chair, and as soon as he reached it, the blood stained chains wrapped themselves tight around him, leaving no room for escape.

„Sirius Black" the rough voice of the lion-like man bellowed, „you stand here under the accusation of betraying the Potters to Him Who We Must Not Name, and leading them to their deaths. You are also accused of the death of one Peter Pettigrew and 13 muggles, on the streets of London. How do you plead?"

„Not guilty!"

A.N.

I know, I know, horrible cliffy...

I decided to divide the trial in two parts to do it more justice.

I will not reveal anything about how my story will continue, but what I want to underline is the fact that Harry will not have a redeeming quality, he will not turn out to be good, or anything like that. He is evil and will remain so until the very end of my story. Everything I write has a meaning, and everything will be disclosed in due time.

That being said, thank you all for your lovely reviews, they keep me going.

Yours faithfully,

**erhea**


	13. The Trial part two

Disclaimer: All hail J.K.R. For creating the captivating world of Harry Potter. Sadly, she owns it and I do not. Nevertheless, I very much enjoy playing with it.

The trial (part 2)

Silence. Not one whisper, not one sound was heard after the raw voice of Sirius Black uttered those two little, unbelievable words.

The High Interrogator shook his grey streaked mane of untamed reddish locks, and repeated in a menacing voice:

„I beg your pardon, Mr Black? Can you please repeat that statement?"

Sirius hands grabbed the arms of the chair, muscles strained, eyes blazing with hatred and disgust.

„I said not fucking guilty!" he growled, lips curled in disdain.

„I see" Rufus Scrimgeor sneered in response. „Perhaps it is better if we surpass these 'pleasantries' and get to the point of this...this trial. As you obviously have no respect for the Court I fine you with 1000 galleons for your use of disrespectfully words used in front the High Court! All in favour?" he continued.

Ten hands rose themselves in the air, all belonging to the Interrogators seated at the High Table, to the left and to the right of the High Inquisitor.

„ Furthermore, I suggest we bring right now the Veritaserum and get the condemnation this court should have obtained eleven years ago. All in favour?" he bellowed yet again.

Ten hands rose once again, this time joined by the whispering of the wizards in attendance.

One of the aurors the brought Black into the Court Room smirked and pulled out from his robe a crystal vial that contained said potion. For long strides later, he dropped three drops on the tongue of one not so amused and still considered a dark wizard.

As soon as the serum touched Sirius Back's lips, his scowling face took a blank look. This was the first proof that Veritaserum started to work it's wonders.

Rufus Scrimgeor coughed once, conjured a glass of water and after having taken a sip from it, he continued with his rough voice:

„State your name, convict"

„Sirius Orion Black" came the unnatural voice of the prisoner.

„Do you understand why you stand in front of this court?"

„Yes"

„Tell us!"

„Because I did not received a trial for causing the death of the head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter and his wife" the same voice responded, devoid of any emotion.

Outrageous yells broke the silence that followed after such a confession.

„Murder" yelled a woman seated on the third row.

„The Kiss, give him the bloody Kiss already! You heard the man" yelled Diggory, white foam forming at his mouth.

„Fucking Deatheater" yelled another.

„SILENCE!" bellowed the High Interrogator, his face glowing with satisfaction.

As soon as all present ceased their mutterings and cries of outrage, he continued:

„As the accused confessed under the veritaserum that he betrayed the Potters"

„Hem... Hem..."

Rufus glared, thinking that this specific sound was made by someone from the public, and after taking another sip from his previously conjured glass of water, he begun once again:

„ As I was saying, since the accused confessed under the veritaserum"

„Hem... Hem... Hemmm" the same womanly voice started again.

The High Interrogator turned his questioning eyes towards the audience and not finding anything amiss there he glanced towards his fellow Interrogators.

There, dressed in all her pinkish glory, stood Dolores Umbridge, glaring daggers at him.

Seeing that she got the attention of her lion like colleague, her lips curled in a sickening sweetish smile, and said with and even more sweetish voice:

„I demand my right to ask some questions to Lord Black."

„Be my guest, Madam!" Scrimgeor barked, looking very displeased with the matter at hand. He could not forbid an Interrogator to query, after all.

„ Lord Black" the woman that resembled an oversized toad begun. „Were you, or were you not, the Secret Keeper of the Potters?"

„I was not" came the reply from the same devoid voice of Sirius Black.

The woman smiled at seeing the shocked faces of those in attendance. Her eyes travelled to the blonde party situated on the first row and smiled. Then she continued.

„Can you tell us, Lord Black, who the Keeper was?"

„Peter Pettigrew"

Pandemonium broke in.

On the halls of the Ministry of Magic, in the Leaky Cauldron, in their homes, wizards yelled and spluttered. It was not easy to rip apart the most set in stone opinions, to stop History on it's truck and even to rewind it in order to rewrite the last eleven years. Eleven years free of He That Shall Never Be Named and of it's terror, eleven years of celebration.

But Dolores Umbridge was not yet done with her questions. So she continued to demolish, brick by brick what her predecessor built with carelessness and hurry.

„Is that why you killed Pettigrew"

„I did not kill the rat. He cut his finger, transformed into the pest that he is and blew up the street while yelling that I betrayed them" Sirius Black replied.

„I see"

She the turned to a gaping High Inquisitor, and finished in her sweet sickly voice:

„No further questions, Rufus"

Said man, while still maintaining a yellowish grey complexion, tuned his eyes to the still chained Sirius Black. He took several deep breaths, frowned once or twice while shacking his mane, and said in what seemed to be a very reluctant voice:

„All those in favour of freeing the accused, please raise you hands"

Ten hands raised for a tenth time that day, accompanied by the hands of almost every wizard and witch, from the Court Room, from the Halls, from the Alley, from the Leaky Cauldron, and from any other place where the WWN broadcast the events.

„Lord Black, you are free to go"

„Hem...Hemm..."

„Yes Madame Umbridge?" he asked, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

„Of course, dear...boy" she said, with an angelic smile.

„But I do believe that some compensations are in order..."

As these words were spoken, Scrimgeor's face changed colours so rapidly that it was indeed a wonder that he did not suffer a stroke. When it finally managed to set itself on a reddish hue, resembling that of the Weasley family, he managed to regain the sense of speech and utter with defeat:

„Yes, yes. I believe that a compensation is indeed due. Five hundred thousand galleons should be enough. Court adjourned".

As the Interrogators departed, Sirius was given the antidote to the truth serum by a very repented auror. His chains were removed, hands shook, and immediately his eyes turned two meet four sets of eyes set upon him. Two silvery grey, one icy blue – much like his own, eyes of a Black, and finally, one emerald green, full of what he believed to be...curiosity.

A.N.

There you go... Trial done and over **grin**

Thank you for reading, reviewing and taking the troubles to point me the errors I unwillingly commit whilst writing this story. It is unconsciously done, as the spell checkers fail me, most miserably.

Nevertheless, hail to all of you for your uninterested support. You keep me going.

Yours faithfully,

**erhea**


End file.
